Melodies
by SerenAananai
Summary: It all started with a stupid bet, and Anarchy Vahn didn't take any of her friend's warnings to heart. Now she's being plagued by the town's most horrifying legend. Will it drive this young musician mad, or will other factors come into play that may prove that not all legends are true?
1. The Bet

_How do I get myself in these situations?!_ It was the only thought running through my mind as dodged the trees in my immediate vision. My flashlight was dying, and it was becoming more difficult to see where I'm running. I broke through the trees and found myself on the dirt trail once again. I paused just for a moment, trying to catch my breath and find my bearings. I readjusted my messenger bag and sprinted down towards what I was hoping was the gate. The static was getting louder, and I fought the urge to look back. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You're all probably wondering how I even ended up here. Well, i can tell you that it all started with a bet my bandmate Korri made with me…

"Cursed? Bullshit Korri!" I said, sitting in a lawn chair, tuning my electric guitar. We were all in the garage of my friend and bassist Z, who was idly strumming away on his bass, listening to our conversation. We were waiting for the twins Axel and Dee who were our vocalist and drummer respectively. Korri got up from the old worn leather couch that was on the far end of the wall and grabbed a beer from the fridge, his spiked green hair seeming to glow from the fluorescent bulb above us. He tossed a can my way, which I hastily caught. He cracked it open and took a huge chug. He belched loudly and threw a smirk my way.

"You heard me Ana. Those woods are cursed. People go in there and disappear. Poof! Up and gone. Most of the time it's kids who end up wandering in there and disappearing. Adults also disappear, but sometimes they don't. They end up either finding the bodies mangled in a gruesome way, or if they find them alive, they end up going insane and killing themselves. They always end up talking about a faceless demon in a suit haunting their minds." He sat in the folding chair next to me. I rolled my eyes and opened the can.

"Yeah okay… it sounds like a bunch of bull," I took a swig from the can and pushed back a lock of my purple dyed hair. I rubbed the back of my head, feeling the soft stubble of my shaved head. "It has to be an old urban legend or something. It can't be true. 'A faceless demon in a suit'? Puh-leeeeeze! It sounds like a load of horse crap."

Z snorted as he stopped strumming his bass. "It's a little more than just a story, Anarchy. My uncle, the one who's in the mental ward, he saw the monster when he was younger. He was on a camping trip with his friends and they were attacked by it. He said it was a tall, skinny monster in a black and white suit, it had no face and tentacles sprouting from its back. It killed most of his friends, leaving him and his other friend alive. My uncle had nightmares that drove him crazy, and his friend ended up committing suicide." He frowned as he adjusted the skirt he was wearing. I sighed at Z, feeling a little jealous that my male cross dresser friend looks better dressed in girl's clothes than I do. I took another swig from the can and set the can onto the concrete floor.

"I just don't believe it, that's all. It just sounds too farfetched to be real…" I shook my head as my fingered began to fly on the strings, almost lazily playing the opening to HIM's "Wings of a Butterfly", hearing the melody play softly on the near muted amp. Korri rolled his eyes as the garage door was lifted open, letting out the cool air into the summer heat.

"What up bitches?" Dee said happily, skipping over and jumping onto my lap. I moved my guitar quickly as she flopped onto my lap.

"Oof… dammit Dee!" she leaned her head on my shoulder, overwhelming me with the scent of pot on her. Axel sat on top of her, effectively crushing my thin, small form. I grunted uncomfortably at the added weight.

"Hey, hey hey! Get off of her! Ya'll are going to break my chair, with your high asses!" Z cried, swatting them off of my lap. Axel got up and grabbed the microphone.

"Test test. One, two, three… who wants Mexican?" he laughed.

"I want nachos!" Dee said, kissing my neck softy and giggling. I rubbed her back and sighed.

"Taaaaaacoooooos!" Z called out, strumming his bass.

"Fuck that, I'm getting Chinese…. Maybe get some of the food too." Korri winked, sticking out his tongue.

"AAAAAAAAAANAARRRRCHYYYYYYY! What do you want?!" Axel shouted into the mic. I winced.

"Fine, fine! I want a quesadilla. Chicken and bacon please." I played with Dee's hair. At the rate this practice was going, there would be no way we'd be playing any music.

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Will you pass the damn thing already Dee? You've been holding onto it for too long!" Korri cried, reaching for the joint that Dee was holding on to. I giggled and took a sip from my can. We were sitting around the fire pit in Z's back yard, sharing a joint, strumming out random melodies and cracking jokes. Not to mention getting shit faced. Despite being too young to drink, we were celebrating. We were graduating high school in about a month or so, and we were also lucky enough to have our first gig; we were playing for our school's prom, much to the rich boy jock, Steven Anderson's chagrin. He offered to pay for an expensive D.J, but our principal wanted live entertainment. Just so happen that he "accidentally" walked in on us playing a few songs in the music room.

"Ana, you really don't believe me about the curse, do ya?" Korri said, lifting a beer to his lips and smirking.

"I still call bullshit. Curses are all superstition and folk tales." I scoffed, draining my fifth can of beer. Dee handed me the joint and I inhaled the herby flavor, holding in the smoke until my vision became fuzzy.

"Then why don't you go on in there then?" Korri said. I exhaled and giggled.

"Yeah okay… I'll do that… as soon as Axel can hit a soprano's high note." I chuckled and took another drag, then handed it to Z. "Or better yet, let him sing like Sarah Brightman. Chromaggia, from _Repo!_ " I said pointedly, lifting my can to my lips to rid myself of cottonmouth.

Axel scoffed. "Hey! I can do it…" then he broke out into a surprisingly good imitation of the song. I nodded when he finished and threw my can at Korri.

"I'm not doin' it!" I said.

"You gots to now…. And I heard, that in the woods, there are eight pages hidden in those woods. They say if you find all eight pages, you'll be free from the curse. If not, you'll disappear…. Or get impaled on a tree. Or even go insane. That is… if you ever make it out of the woods."

"Wow… wait so let me get this straight: if you don't escape the gated part of the woods with those pages, you'll die. Or disappear? Yeah okay. Fuck. That." I strummed on my Spanish guitar, having had put away my electric one in favor of the exotic tunes in combination with the fire pit. I started to play the melody from Carlos Santana's _Maria, Maria_ and softly sang the song.

 _"_ _Maria, Mariaaaaaa…_

 _She reminds me of a west side story…_

 _Growing up in Spanish Harleeeem,_

 _She's livin' the life just like a movie staaaaar…._

 _Oh, Maria Mariaaaaa_

 _She fell in love in East …._

 _To the sounds of the guitar, yeeeeaaah,_

 _Played by-"_

"Anarchy Vahn!" Dee sang over me, her voice cracking. I giggled and kept playing the tune, just humming the lyrics.

"Oh geez Ana! You have an incredible voice! I don't know why my bro is the lead singer when you have more talent vocally then him!" she said as she rolled another joint.

"Yeah, you- hey!" Axel scowled, but then smirked.

"Ugh… yeah, she's right though. You don't have to be just a guitarist." Said Z, unwrapping some candy and popping it into his mouth. I smiled.

"Thanks guys, but I'm not into all that attention. Besides, Axel is the one who organized this band, and he has a great voice by nature. I was classically trained, it isn't all natural." I shrugged.

"Classically trained or not, your voice is amazing. I don't know why you won't sing." Axel said.

"I just don't want to." I said.

"Okay! Well how about this?" Korri stood up and walked towards me. He pulled me up and straightened out my skinny tie, wiping away the ashes.

"Three hundred diablos say that you won't have the courage to even walk through those woods." He said, starting me straight in the eye.

"Three hundred bones?!... I could get a new amp with that…" I thought aloud, biting my nail. I looked up at him with resolve and nodded.

"You got a bet, douchebag."


	2. Through the Woods

An hour later, I was slinging on my messenger bag, empty save for a Polaroid camera, a flashlight and my brother's obsidian knife. I shrugged on my faux leather long vest and straightened out my short sleeve white collared button down shirt. I tied my hair up, exposing the shaved sides and back of my hair. I carefully readjusted my earrings and suicide bar and tightened my shin high platform boots. I kissed the silver pendant with an engraved pentagram, surrounded by arcane lettering that I had received from my late mother. She told me that it was a protective charm, that no harm, evil, or ill will, would ever touch me. I sighed as we all got into Korri's van and took the ten minute drive to the state park. We pulled up into the parking section and I hopped out of the back of the van. We walked up the worn dirt path, everyone joking and chattering loudly. I kept silent, a dark feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach. This was just a gag… wasn't it? I only moved here four years ago… and I never went through any type of initiation when I joined the band. Maybe this was just that moment.

"We're here Ana!" Korri said smugly, his flashlight shining on a rusted "Restricted: Do Not Enter" sign with the "O" scratched over and "X"-ed out.

"This is the rumored entry point into the cursed woods. You enter and exit in here. If you find any pages, make sure not to touch them." Said Z, his voice full of concern.

"I'll throw in an extra two hundred if you find one and bring it back" Korri laughed. Z scowled.

"Anarchy, if you do find a page, make sure to get all eight before you leave the forest, or else you'll go insane… like my uncle Rodger." He frowned. I nodded and tightened the bag across my chest.

"Are you going to be okay in those shoes Ana?" Dee asked, biting her nails in worry. I looked down at my platforms. They silver buckles were tightened perfectly and the flat platform were comfortable on my feet, making my five-foot-three height go up about four inches. I sighed and stomped my foot on the ground.

"These are my most comfortable shoes, and I can run like a track star in these. Don't worry. Besides, I'm so used to wearing boots and platforms, if I wore anything else, I'd bust my ass." I kissed Dee softly and patted her head. Dee and I have a strange relationship. We're both straight females, but we were so close and secure in ourselves that we didn't even flinch at our sorta homosexual act when the douchebag jocks accused us of being Lesbos. Oh well, we ran with it just to bug them. It's become a habit.

I started to climb up the fence, and jumped down on the other side. I pulled out the flash light and clicked it on. LED and bright. I smiled as I looked back at the guys, only to meet with fence and empty forest, dark and endless.

"Oh very funny guys!" I shouted into the darkness. I turned around in a huff and started to walk down the dirt path. It was incredibly dark, even more so than it should be. I kept my flashlight level and smoothed out my black mini skirt, the chain embellishments jingling softly. It was so silent that it creeped me the fuck out. There weren't even any crickets chirping, which was super odd. It was stifling, only the sound of the crunching dirt and gravel and the chains I was wearing could be heard.

I wandered the path for some time not really seeing anything extraordinary or strange. I came to a branching path going off towards my left. I shrugged and followed the path, only to end up standing in front of an old rusted tin silo. I walked around it to see if there were any other paths. I turned, not seeing any, when my light shined on a slightly shiny piece of paper that was pinned onto the silo. I got closer; it was some kind of old parchment, crumpled and slightly torn. There were some scribbles on it in what seems like ink: "Don't Look… Or IT Takes You". Fan-fucking-tastic. I reached my hand out hesitantly. I don't know whether or not to take it…. but then again… Five hundred bones. I grabbed the sheet and tore it from the silo.

A feeling of heaviness and someone staring at me instantly hit me. I looked around, slashing my flashlight to see if anyone was watching me. I saw nothing… but my heart started to beat faster. I shook it off and walked back to the main path. I started back down the main path, looking out for any other kind of oddities or landmarks that may stick out. Might be worth exploring. After a while I came up to what looked like a kind of building, like a locker room or rest room. I wandered around inside, looking at the various empty rooms with broken toilets and shower stalls. A couple of rooms were empty. In one of the empty rooms an over turned chair sat in a corner, along with another one of those slightly shiny parchment pages pinned onto the wall above it. "Help Me" it said. I grabbed the page and stuffed it into my messenger along with the other one. A shiver ran down my spine, and I suddenly felt cold. I swallowed, a feeling of trepidation creeping within me.

I rushed out of the locker room, overwhelmed with the feeling of claustrophobia. I took a deep breath as I wandered back onto the path. I shivered again as I felt the feeling of eyes burning onto my back again. I turned around and saw nothing… but I didn't like the feeling I was getting. I felt like I was wearing a damp, cold blanket on my back, heavy and uncomfortable. I tried to shake it off, but it was like it was glued to my back. I walked back onto the path, my steps a little more brisk. I was feeling nervous. I moved through the trees trying to avoid the low branches, some of them scratching my arms. I shuffled along the path, my heart beating hard now. What did I get myself into?

"Another one?!" I panted, standing in front of what looked like an empty oil tanker. There were a several rows of them; huge, rusted and abandoned. This was the sixth one, and I was panicking. These stupid fucking pages! I wish I never took this stupid bet! These feeling have gotten worse, and I've been seeing shadows following me ever since the third page. My head has started to hurt, feeling fuzzy and I've been hearing a faint static sound in my ears, like a ringing that won't go away. I took the page, and then threw up. A wave of fear and nausea had hit me like a ton of bricks. I wiped my lip and started to maneuver through the tankers. Suddenly, I felt something collide into my back, effectively knocking me down.

"Ugh! The fuck?!" I got back up quickly and looked around. I didn't see anything, I turned around to look behind me and instantly felt a sharp pain in my head, along with the sound of static. I grabbed my head and shook it. I shined my light off into the distant and saw a figure in the distance. It was tall and black clad and it looked like it was lumbering towards me. I gasped as I noticed it didn't have a face. "Oh my god…." I gulped and turned, starting off on a sprint. I can't believe it! Z and Korri were right, this place was cursed!

"Gotta run! Have to- ugh!" I felt something collide with my ribs. I fell to the ground, rolling. I looked up to see a guy, somewhere around my age, wearing a dingy bronze windbreaker, worn jeans and a white mask with the eyes and lips painted black. I pushed myself back up and started to run away. I heard the sound of running steps behind me, the sound of static in my ears. I ran through the trees, dodging the branches that seem to move. I looked back to see the figures following me, then turned, almost colliding with another figure. He wore a similar colored hoodie like the other one, but his face was so shadowed that even though I shined my light on him, I couldn't see it. I skidded and turned, running the opposite direction. I felt pain in my chest as I ran as fast as I could. How do I get myself into these types of situations? Oh yeah, that's right, I was high, drunk and stupid. I was back on the path again, and I came up to an empty field, only large wooden pillars all placed in a row. I saw another page and instantly grabbed it. "Can't Run". Fuck that shit I'm running like all holy hell! I felt something sharp as I began to run. I saw a shine of a knife as the masked kid swung it at me. He cut my arm as I ran.

I had seven pages. I only needed to find the last one before I was able to leave here. I didn't know where I was running, but somehow I was able to see despite my dying flashlight. I saw some kind of blackness in my peripheral I looked to see it was some kind of tentacle. I screamed as it shot towards me. I ducked and rolled away, dodging it. I ran blindly through the woods, keeping my hands out in front of me so that I could avoid running into a tree. The static and buzzing in my ears was unbearable, along with the sharp headache and nausea, I just wanted it to end. But I didn't want to die. I somehow made it to a lone tree in what I'm assuming is the center of the forest. It was a creepy tree, the branches twisted and gnarled and nary a leaf adorning it. But what did adorn it was a page; the last one. It said "Leave Me Alone". Damn right! I grabbed it and tore it from the tree.

All of a sudden, everything stopped. The static, the headache, the nausea; it was all gone. I panted and swallowed, a feeling of hope bubbling in my stomach. I sighed. Now I just had to get out of here. All I have to do is run straight down the path and I'm home free. I turned and stopped dead. I came face to face with the dark figure that was following me. I stared wide eyed and held my breath as he stood face to face with me. He was tall, unbelievably so, wearing a dark suit with a white collared shirt and black tie. His skin was white and his was completely faceless. I gulped and stepped back. The second I did, a disgusting ripping sound sounded from his face as a large horrifying mouth ripped into his features, its sharp teeth dripping with drool and venom. Thick black tentacles sprouted from his back. I took in a deep breath and swallowed.

"Hi…" I breathed. It tilted its head in a confused manner. I nodded, not taking my eyes off of it.

"I'm just gonna…." I murmured as I scooted and then turned and broke out into a dead sprint. I heard the sounds what sounded like a deep roar mixed with static filling my ears as I sprinted down the path. It was following me, along with the other figures that had attacked me earlier. I breathed hard as the fence I came over came into view. Home free!

I felt something wrap around my ankle, effectively tripping me. I looked down to see a tentacle wrapped around my ankle. The figure was coming closer along with his lackeys. I quickly pulled out my brother's knife and sliced at the tentacle. A foul, deep voice in my head screamed in pain as it unwrapped itself from my ankle. I staggered back up and ran like hell. I was right there! I made it! I grabbed at the fence and started to pull myself up. The static in my ears began to fade as I swung a leg over the fence. I panted as I sat on the rail, looking back. They were just a few feet away from me, frozen where they stood. I brushed my hair out of my face, the ribbon in my hair long gone by now, as I pulled out my Polaroid. I snapped a few pictures of the guys; they flinched as the flash went off.

I blew on the pictures as the tall figure came into view. I gulped as I snapped a picture of it. Its horrid mouth had disappeared and it was facing me, looking as though it was staring at me. I snapped another picture, then lowered my camera. Though it had no face, it still have some kind of facial features… and they were contorted in such a way, that if I didn't know better, looked kind of… sad. Forlorn almost…. I gulped as I placed the camera and pictures back into my bag. I took one last look at the three of them, then hesitantly waved. I then jumped back over the fence. I looked back to see them gone.


	3. Aftermath

"You made it!" Dee said, tackling me to the ground in a hug. I grunted as I hugged her back. Z jumped on top of me, along with Axel in an effective dog-pile.

"Alright, get off of her. If the forest didn't kill her, you ass-clowns will." Korri said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me up after the guys shifted off of me. He hugged me and pouted.

"Five hundred diablos, gone! I can't believe it…" he shook his head. I smiled.

"Three hundred. I didn't find anything in those woods." I said with a sigh. They looked at me in surprise.

"Really? With all the murders and stuff, I was so sure…" Korri said. Z looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. We all started to walk back to the van, but Z held me back from the rest of the group.

"Ana, are you sure you didn't see anything? I know I sound like a paranoid loser, but I know what my uncle saw, and he isn't the imaginative type of person, so what he saw in there was real and drove him mad. Are you one hundred percent sure you didn't see anything?" his voice was so full of concern, I almost considered telling him the truth; but I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that if I told him, he'd be in danger as well. I didn't want that for my friend. So I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Nah, I didn't see anything. A pack of wolves chased me, but other than that, I didn't see anything strange." His face showed that he didn't believe me, but he shrugged and we walked back to the van.

I laid in my bed, kicking off my boots. Korri dropped me off at my apartment after we had a few more drinks and shared another joint. I was completely exhausted, and yet I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep any time soon. My mind was reeling from the figures in the park. I couldn't believe that that faceless demon was really real. It was insane to think that Z and Korri were right. Not like I'd ever admit it to them. I sat up and reach into my messenger bag, taking out the pages and the photos. The pictures were blurry, and the one of the faceless… thing, was so warped that it looked like the Polaroid photo was over-exposed with a flame. I pulled out a manila folder from my night table and slipped the pages and photos inside. I took out a small binder clip from the top drawer of my night table and clipped the folder shut. Taking out a Sharpie, I wrote in small letters on the file tab "PROOF". I then slipped the folder in the bottom drawer and returned to laying down in my bed. I was too fucking high, and I couldn't take my mind off of the beings in the woods. The way that faceless things looked at me… well I guess he looked at me, kinda hard to tell when he doesn't have a face to speak of. But the aura that I felt from him, other than homicidal rage, was a kind of confusion. But why?

A knock on my door broke my train of thought as my elder brother walked into my room. He was still in his work clothes, a formal light blue button up and black suit pants, but his jacket was missing, his sandy blond hair that was normally in a shit mess was lightly gelled and brushed backed and his hazel eyes rimmed with black circles. He was loosening his tartan patterned tie as he plopped down on the corner of my bed.

"Aaaaaaannaaaaaaaaaaaaa…. Do you have my bowl?" he whined. I sighed as I sat up and pulled a thick blue glass pipe and a small baggie of pot out from under my pillow.

"Here, borrow mine. How was work, Erik?" I sat up on my elbows as my brother loaded my bowl and lit it, inhaling deeply.

"Shitty," he exhaled. "Fucking twat Raoul showed me up at the presentation today. You'd think he'd collab with his twin brother, but noooooooooo. Ever the fucking serious, stick-up-ass dick-hole he always is." He took another drag and passed me the still lit bowl. I took a drag and cracked open my window. I sighed at the same old story; my two older brothers work for the same advertising company and yet always seem to compete with each other. Doesn't help that Raoul is the antithesis of both Erik and I. I'm a musician, and Erik is an artist, mechanic and a basic jack-of-all-trades, but because Raoul was on our ass about our lacking finances, he made us both get a job. Erik works with Raoul in a more stable sense, and I work in a crappy supermarket part time. Ever since mom died and dad went back to Broadway, Raoul has become a real hard ass.

"Fucking shit… why can't he just lay off sometimes? He was busting my balls yesterday cause of my hair. 'Oh, you're going to college, you need to stop looking like a deviant and start looking more professional if you wanna get a good career' blah, blah fucking blah." I tapped out the spent pot into a small sake cup I use as an ashtray and reloaded my bowl. I lit it again and let the smoke fill my lungs.

"I'm going into an arts college as a film and theater major, I don't think looking professional is a major concern…" I sighed and passed the bowl back to Erik, who was looking at his now ruffled hair, forlorn.

"I miss my red tips… fucking can't believe that trouser stain made me cut it all off…" he huffed as he partook in my bowl. I pulled out my weed grinder from the top drawer and started to grind some more weed, and then pulled out some tobacco wraps.

"Where is Raoul anyways? Isn't it about time for Sir Buzzkill to come home?" I licked the seam of the now rolled blunt closed and set it aside as I swept away the bits of tobacco that flaked off.

Erik laughed mid drag, causing him to cough harshly. I handed him a bottle of water that I had stashed in my mini fridge that was hidden between my bed and the wall near my window sill. He chugged it as I lit the blunt, waiting for him to calm down from his coughing fit.

After a while, he calmed down, taking deep breaths before continuing his thought. "Raoul decided that he wanted to work late at the office tonight, so we won't be seeing him till either later tonight, or tomorrow. Either way, I don't give a rat's ball-sack, all I want right now, is to get out of these clothes, order a pizza and watch _South Park_. You in?" he said, tearing off his tie and standing up from the bed. I took a drag and passed the blunt to my brother, who held it in his lips lazily as he began to unbutton his collar. I shrugged. Anything to get my mind off of the forest and my stick-in-the-mud-brother.

"I'm game."

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Are you _kidding_ me?!" a deep voice sounded, followed by the loud slam of our front door. I looked up from the pillow I had my face buried in while lying face down on the sofa, a half-eaten slice of veggie pizza still in my hand; to see the angry, stern face of my brother Raoul, his face reddening behind his wire framed glasses, his usually perfectly coifed blonde hair looked a little disheveled and his light grey suit looking perfect along with his silk red tie and silver button down, placing down his black briefcase next to the door. I sat up slowly and threw my pillow at Erik, who was barely conscious on the recliner with a bag of pork rinds open and spilling on his lap, along with chocolate cupcakes, a bag of buttery popcorn, gummy worms and a slice of pepperoni pizza hanging from his mouth. He jumped from the contact from the pillow, and looked around in a panic, only to groan when he spotted Raoul.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck….." he groaned as he sat up, letting all the snacks spill onto the floor.

I winced as everything fell to the floor, and then looked up at my other brother, his greyish eyes steely and stern, his lips set in a frown.

"What the hell is going on here?" he said, his voice deathly calm, which usually meant trouble. I switched off the Xbox, which was still playing episodes of _South Park_.

"Uuuh…. Well-"

"You! Don't speak. Room. Bed, NOW!" he said in in short bursts, as if to contain the rage that was bursting to come out. I sat up, and with a quick glance to Erik, skittered into my room. The moment I closed the door, Raoul exploded, his yelling streaming through the walls of the apartment, aimed at Erik. The words "lazy", "irresponsible", "Bad influence" and "Delinquent" along with my name thrown around in there were heard along with swears. I sighed as I flicked on my lamp and sat down on my bed. I took my small table mirror and some makeup wipes and began to clean my makeup off. My pale complexion began to stand out even more as I wiped away my foundation. I wiped away my thick eyeliner, letting my bright, yet bloodshot and dilated emerald green eyes stand alone on my face. I carefully cleaned off my lipstick, maneuvering my lip ring so that I could clean it all off. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection, my silver tongue stud glinting from the lamp's light. I changed into my wife-beater tank top and black shorts, grabbed my small face towel and carefully opened my door.

The yelling has ceased, and Raoul was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he was in his room; but Erik was still in the living room, cleaning up all the food from the floor. I took a left down the hall to the bathroom and washed my face. I brushed my hair, feeling the stubble of my undercut growing back out. I let my shoulder length hair hang, its wavy purple locks framing my heart shaped face. I frowned as I examined myself in the mirror. I was thin, and not much of a figure, my chest was small, and I had slight hips. I had a small waist, which made wearing corsets and bodices easier, but other than that, I didn't think myself attractive. I've tried to gain weight to give myself some more curves, but I have such a fast metabolism that I can never gain any weight. Oh great, I was making myself depressed. I sighed as I walked out of the bathroom, only to freeze when the cut I had sustain came into my view. I had forgotten all about it! It wasn't deep, and had already scabbed over. The sleeve of my shirt must have covered it, or else it would have been brought to my attention. I quickly cleaned and wrapped it and walked back to my room. I shut my bedroom door and plopped onto my bed. I had class tomorrow, and I really didn't want to go… but I needed to attend. I let myself fade to sleep, the fuzzy memory of the masked guys and the faceless thing floating into my mind.


	4. HQ

_I was feeling motion sick. And I was feeling cold. I opened my eyes and saw the ground flying underneath me. What the fuck? It was pitch black and I couldn't see anything, but I smelled earth and heard the crunching of leaves and gravel from underneath me. I was being carried… but by who? I fought to control my breathing as panic began to rise within me._

 _Suddenly I was dropped onto the ground, my back hitting something hard. I grunted in pain and surprise. I felt something hit my leg and the sound of rapid fading footsteps going into the distance. It was silent, and I was left alone in the dark unknown. I felt for the thing that had hit my leg. It was a flashlight, and I clicked it on. The light flooded my immediate area, illuminating trees and bushes. I was in the woods again. I started hyperventilating; I can't be here again! How did I ever get here? Who brought me here? The fuck is going on?! I got up and looked around, looking for the path. I started walking forward, happy for once that I have nerve damage in my legs so I couldn't feel the sharp rocks, twigs and gravel underneath my bare feet. I walked slowly, trying to calm my increasing fear and paranoia as well as keep an ear out for the sounds of my captor… or anything else that would be in here. I just hope I don't run into those things from earlier._

 _I wandered the forest, straining my ear for any foreign sounds outside of my footsteps, but like before, the silence was unnatural and heavy. I kept walking, trying to find the fence so that I can climb over it and leave this wretched forest. I ended up at the decrepit old tree in the center of the forest. I sighed, recognizing it instantly and looked around for the path, finally knowing where I was. I found the path, feeling hope swell in my chest; but I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my head. I groaned and clasped my head, leaning against the tree. It hurt so much, it made me dizzy. I sat down, rocking back and forth, trying to sooth my head. I don't know how long I sat there, but after a while the headache subsided. I sighed, rubbing my temples. I felt a rough tap on my shoulder suddenly and looked up, only to see the hooded figure from before. I opened my mouth, ready to scream, when he suddenly clamped his large hand over my mouth hard, effectively silencing me. I started swinging my hands, trying to fight him off, but he grabbed my hand with his other hand, and pinned me to the tree. He pressed his chest to mine, holding me against the tree. I kept trying to scream, but his gloved hand had effectively silenced my voice. I breathed through my nose heavily as he leaned his head close to mine._

 _"_ _Shhhh…" he whispered, surprising me into silence. I looked up to his face, and noticed that he was also wearing a mask. It looked kind of like a ski mask, but the eyes and mouth holes were covered with red cloth, sewn into a simple frowny face. I gulped and nodded slowly and he removed his hand from my mouth. I took a deep breath and just looked at him. Was he trying to help me?_

 _"_ _Who are you?" I whispered. He stood up without answering me, and grabbed upper arm, pulling me up with him. We walked in silence towards the fence and I looked around, paranoia rising in me once again. I had the eerie feeling that we were being followed, and whatever was following us was dangerous. I moved closer to the hooded guy grabbing his arm, and he flinched at my sudden contact. He looked at me and shook his head as he gently pried my hand off his arm. But he instead held my hand as he pulled me along the path. It didn't ease my paranoia. A sharp crack of a twig behind us made us freeze, and the hooded guy instantly pushed me forward, as if telling me to run. I ran forward, heading towards the fence as a loud gunshot sounded behind me as well as a familiar voice shouting obscenities behind me. I didn't look back as I ran like all holy hell. The fence came into view and I felt relief flow through me. I was home free!_

 _Suddenly, the tall faceless figure came into view, and I skidded to a stop. I backed away, hyperventilating and feeling an instant wave of nausea and pain explode through me. I tripped over a branch and fell on my back and laid there crying._

 _"_ _Please…. Please stop! I'm begging you…. Please…. I'm sorry… I'm sorry!" I cried out, unable to move from the pain. My vision became fuzzy as the figure stood over me, and the last thing I saw was his hand coming towards me as my world went black._

 _Static…_

 _Pain…._

 _Blood…_

I gasped and shot up from my bed with a start. I looked at my clocked: 3:44 A.M. It was…. A dream? A fucking dream?! I sighed, wiping the sweat from my face. There was no way in hell I was going back to sleep after that nightmare. It felt too real and that unnerved me. I got out of my bed, grabbed my acoustic guitar and walked to my living room. I plopped down onto the worn corduroy sofa and started to softly strum on my guitar. I played random melodies softly, still feeling a dull ache in my head from the stress from my nightmare. I was feeling restless, albeit exhausted but I don't want to go back to sleep. I sighed and got up, got dressed in my day clothes, an off the shoulder tee with the word "PUNK CHICK" in white written across the chest, a pair of ink black ripped up skinny jeans and my favorite chain and studs belt and my platforms, grabbed my black leather half jacket and my black fingerless gloves and tied up my hair after putting on my makeup. I grabbed my keys, messenger with workbooks, and my guitar case and left the apartment.

After I descended the apartment stairs I went into the lobby and greeted Eddie, the lobby clerk. After we exchanged some words, he let me into the back office and picked up my bike: a red ten speed that my brother customized. I wheeled it out of the building, mounted it and rode it off into the street. It was obviously too early for me to go to school, but I went the direction of school to my hideout. There was an old abandoned storage shed on the campus that the guys and I had customized as out "ditch out of gym" hideout. We called it the HQ and I often went there to be alone and think. I made my way down the road, the school coming into view when suddenly my left leg seized and cramped, stiffening to the point of immobility. I lost control of my bike from the sudden leg seizure and veered off the road, crashing into a large bush. I rolled off the bush and hit the ground swearing.

"FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fucking shit!" I spat, grabbing at my leg and started rubbing at the muscles in my leg, trying to loosen the muscles so that I could move my leg. I felt the internal pain of my leg muscles twisting and tightening and spasming as I tried to coax it back into a normal, relaxed state. I sighed as my muscles started to finally relax after a while, feeling thankful that the spasm didn't happen to my back this time. Ever since the accident six years ago, my spine and nerves in my legs were never the same. I sighed and managed to stand shakily, limping towards my bike that was half buried in the bush I landed in. I pulled it out and walked it towards the HQ, using it as a walker.

Doctors said that the fact I was able to walk was a miracle. My mother and I had gotten into a devastating car accident six years ago. It took her life, and it almost shattered my spine and left me paralyzed. Doctors said that I would never be able to walk again, but due to my own stubbornness and drive, I managed to make myself walk again. It was the most excruciating pain I've ever been through in my life, but it worked out. I'm able to walk, and I still attend physical therapy because though I can walk, I still have severe nerve damage and spasms that hinder my ability to walk. But it's getting better, at least that's what I tell myself every day. I sighed as I took out my keys and unlocked the HQ. I wheeled my bike inside and shut the door behind me, locking it. I turned on electric lantern, letting its LED light bathe the small room revealing the lawn chairs and bean bag chairs strategically yet sloppily placed about, a small worn coffee table in the center of the room, littered with scrap papers, ash trays and a two hose hookah in the center of the table. A mini fridge sat in the corner, along with trash cans and a small alcove that led to a working toilet for some strange reason. For me, Dee, Axel and Z, this was a sanctuary in our hellhole of a school. We're outcasts in our school, and the subjects to ridicule by both teachers and students who believe us to be nothing but unruly delinquents who will amount to nothing.

I plopped onto my favorite beanbag chair next to the mini fridge and dug into a small hole between the wall and under the sill and pulled out a large bag of pot and a small grinder. You'd probably think that I'm a major pothead, but because I'm allergic to most painkillers, I qualified for a medicinal marijuana card and use it whenever I'm in pain, which is almost constantly because of the spasms and my still healing spine. Doesn't excuse why my friends use it… but I guess it's their choice. Erik has severe anxiety, so he also is as medicated with herb as I am, much to Raoul's chagrin. He doesn't stop us because he knows it's medicinal, especially for me since the accident, but that doesn't mean he approves. It gets annoying.

I sighed as I finished grinding and started rolling a joint. My leg throbbed uncomfortably and my lower back was starting to ache. I lit it the second it was done and inhaled deeply. I held the smoke in my lungs, letting its painkilling effects wash over me. I exhaled and sighed. I thought about my dream and how it ended. Who was shooting at me in my dream? The voice was so familiar, but also unrecognizable, if that makes any sense. Why would that hooded figure help me if they were trying to kill me? It didn't make any sense. I shook my head and took another drag.

I rotated my ankle, wincing at the tight pain in my muscles. I had taken out my guitar and was strumming away, humming randomly as I strung together random notes and melodies. I sighed as the cannabis took effect, and let the light, floaty feeling of a relaxing high rise in my body. I leaned back into my beanbag chair as I felt my strained and spasming muscles start to relax as a light and mild numbness work its way through my body, washing over me like molasses. Such a wonderful feeling of relief. I don't care what anyone says, cannabis is the best painkiller.

I don't know how long I was staring at the ceiling in a thoughtless daze, but the shed was alight with the risen sun when a click of a lock snapped me out of it. I looked towards the door, surprised to see a random stranger walk in.


	5. Who are you?

"Who are you?" I said as I sat up. The stranger looked at me and coughed slightly, fanning away some of the leftover smoke from my joint. He was a stocky guy, large and relatively tall. With black hair and sideburns, he had light brown eyes and a pale face and was wearing a janitorial jumpsuit. He looked at me, seemingly surprised to see me in here.

"Um… I'm Tim. I thought this shed was empty." He looked around the HQ and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Welp, you thought wrong." I said, dusting off the ash that had coated my knee. I sat up and carefully bent my leg, feeling the muscles tighten slightly. Ah shit, it's gonna be one of those days. I watched Tim from the corner of my eye as I busied myself by rolling another joint. He was coughing slightly and looking around the room. I cracked the window open and lit my joint.

"You shouldn't be smoking that here… I may have to report you." He said sheepishly, as if unsure what he should do. I smirked.

"Go ahead, they already know." I exhaled and shrugged indifferently at his confused expression. "It's medicinal."

"Oh." Was all he said as he continued to shuffle around.

"If you're looking for the gardening supplies, they aren't here." I said as I strummed out on my guitar, the acoustic melody of "My Immortal" by Evanescence sounding throughout the small room.

"Oh I wasn't looking for them." He said as he moved around looking at the room. "You're really good." He said softly. I smiled slightly and took a drag from my joint.

"Thanks, new guy."

"Tim." He stated.

"Tim, yeah. So, you just started here or somethin'?" I placed my guitar down and faced him. He shuffled awkwardly and rubbed his head again. I shook my head.

"You can sit down you know, I'm not gonna bite your head off or anything." I chuckled as he slowly sat down on a lawn chair.

"Thanks… um no I'm not new here. I've been working here for the last year. I worked the night shift, cleaning up after the school was empty. I just changed my schedule to the day shift." He clenched his hands together as he spoke.

I grabbed a soda and a packet of pop tarts from the mini fridge as he spoke. "Uh huh, that explains why I haven't seen you before." I tossed a can his way, which he promptly caught. He nodded in thanks as we both cracked the cans open.

"Why did you come to the HQ? It's been abandoned for the last who knows how many years…" I took a sip and opened my package of pop tarts. Chocolate chip, a favorite.

"Curiosity"

"Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Does there need to be another reason?" he drank from his can. I shrugged, contemplating his words.

"I guess not."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"How did you find this place?" I pursed my lips at his question.

"Hmm, well, I technically didn't. My friend Korri, while he was a senior here, found this shed and enlisted my friends and myself to help rebuild it and turn it into a hangout. It looks dilapidated on the outside, but I assure you it's actually really stable. He had some copies of the key made for all of us and we've been using it as out headquarters ever since." I took another sip and took a bite from my sugary breakfast pastry.

"Cool." We stayed silent as I ate my breakfast. Tim would cough every now and again, but it was relatively silent, and oddly enough, comfortable. I kept sneaking glances at Tim while he was preoccupied with the room. He was cute, that's for sure. He looked to be in his twenties, but I wasn't sure.

"Hey? Can I see your guitar?" he asked suddenly snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? Oh sure." I leaned over and passed him my Spanish acoustic, which was my baby out of all my instruments. I watched him as he plucked a few strings, then started strumming.

"You know how to play?" I asked, tapping the ash off of my joint. He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

"A little, but it's been a while since I last played any instruments." He said a little sadly as he strummed out on my guitar.

"Why?" I asked as he handed me back my guitar.

"A fire. Destroyed my house and everything in it." He frowned, as if remembering the day it happened.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry. That really sucks." I felt guilty for bringing it up, but he shrugged.

"It happened a couple of years ago, don't worry about it." I started to giggle.

"What?"

"You said "tit". I giggled some more, the feeling of levity surging through me. Shit, I was high. He raised an eyebrow at me as I giggled.

"You said, "Don't worry about tit"." I giggled some more, and Tim cracked a smile.

"You're weird." He said, and I started to feel better after seeing him smile.

"No, no, just really high." I sat up and stubbed out my joint, tucking what's left behind my ear for later. I sat up carefully and stretched out my leg, happy that I felt numb enough that I couldn't feel the tightening of the muscle. I then stretched out my back and sighed.

"What time is it?" I asked. He looked at his watch.

"Seven thirty four" he said. I sighed.

"Crap… I have Mrs. Pendanki's class this morning… what a bitch." She was one of my least favorite teachers, and I had her for English class this morning.

Just then I heard a click and Z along with Axel, who was carrying Dee piggyback; she was still asleep. Z looked from me to Tim and back at me.

"The fuck is this guy?" Axel said groggily, feeling exhaustion and apparently a hangover. I sighed.

"Tim. Janitor. He's cool." I said simply. Z walked into the HQ and dropped his duffle bag and bike helmet.

"Cool, well Ana, you and I have that old bitch Pendanski this morning." Z sighed as he plopped down in the seat next to me. He grabbed my leftover pop tart and stuck it in his mouth. I gave him a dirty look.

"I hope you choke on it you fat ass" I murmured as I stood up carefully and gingerly placed some weight on my leg.

"Did your leg seize up again?" Z asked, his words muffled by the pastry. I nodded.

"While I was riding my bike here." I placed my guitar back in its case and locked it up. Z and Tim stood up. Z wrapped his arm around my waist and helped support me.

"I have to get back to work I guess." Tim said, the awkwardness coming back in his voice. I nodded as he started to cough.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He nodded as the coughing fit died down. He then pulled out a bottle of pills.

"Yeah… yeah I'm okay." He uncapped the bottle and popped two pills, then chugged down what was left of his soda. He coughed again then took a deep breath.

"I'm fine… um… I didn't get your name."

"Yeah that happened…" I said airily as I hobbled out of the HQ with Z. He followed behind up, in which the door was then slammed. I guess Axel and Dee are skipping class again. We walked slowly down the hill towards the main campus.

"So… What's your name?" Tim asked again as we neared the main entrance.

"Anarchy, but you can call me Ana for short. And this is Z." Z nodded.

"Well it's nice to meet you both. Make sure to get to class." Tim smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, go do your job." I said playfully, which earned a laugh from Tim as he walked away. I smiled as Z and I made our way down the hall to class.

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Anarchy Vahn, are you sleeping in my class again?!" a shrill voice sounded in my ear, causing me to flinch and snap my eyes open. I looked up and saw a shrill, skinny vulture of a woman, a least a hundred years old, with blue hair, gross wrinkled skin and a mole the size of Texas above her left nostril. Her badly painted up face, with cherry red lipstick, bright green eye shadow and heavy, clumpy mascara, looked down at me with a scowl, her bright red painted cheeks look like they were slapped with a paintbrush. I yawned and sat up, rubbing the tingling numbness from my arm that I was laying on.

"No, no, not at all Mrs. Pendaski. I was just doing some meditation while I was listening to your riveting lecture. Gotta make sure I store all this knowledge up in this brain of mine y'know?" I said, a fake, innocent smile plastered on my face. Z snorted and covered his mouth as Mrs. Wicked Witch of the West started turning redder than her rouge. Her grey eyes darted from me to him and back to me.

"Don't get smart with me missy! You and your little friend just earn yourselves detention!" she exclaimed loudly, earning the snickers from the other students in the class. I looked over to see Anderson and his preppy cocksucker extraordinaire cheerleader girlfriend Amber laugh at me and whisper to each other. Pendanski then strutted back to the front of the class to continue her lecture. I surreptitiously stuck my ear buds into my ears and started to play my music softly from my MP3, while Z shrugged and continued to draw in his notebook. I have to work after class today, no way in hell am I staying after class.

"That sour old bitch needs to die already." I heard Z mutter under his breath. Shit, and I thought I hated her. But then again, she gave Z detention again for no reason, again.

"Don't worry about it… we have to work tonight remember? She's not going to keep us." I murmured to him quietly, which earned an exasperated sigh from him.

"Crap, you're right… I don't wanna go to work tonight." he leaned back in his chair. I mimicked his posture as we pretended to pay attention to the lecture.

"Hey," Z muttered out of the corner of his mouth looking straight ahead to avoid Pendanski's wrath once again as she kept her general sights on us. I turned my head slightly towards him.

"What was up with that Janitor? I've never seen him before."

"Who Tim? He switched from the night shift. He's kinda shy it seems…"

"I don't think so," Z shook his head. "I've been working for the student council and the dance committee after school ever since Principle Torren signed our band up for live entertainment, and I haven't seen him with the night crew." I raised an eyebrow to that.

"Huh… then maybe he really is new…. 'Cause I mean, why lie about something like that? There isn't a point in doin' that."

Z shrugged. I dunno why either, but I just don't want weirdos in the HQ… Korri Left me in charge of it after all…"

I snorted. "Z, _we're_ weirdos. Besides, I see no harm in Tim knowing about the HQ. It doesn't seem like he's going to say anything about it…" I see Z's shoulders sag in defeat from my peripheral. He's not much of a fighter.

"You're right Ana, maybe I'm still a little paranoid… I mean after last night…" he trailed off and I involuntarily shivered. He had every reason to be worried about me, but he wasn't in the forest with me last night; he was afraid of the legend, and I faced it last night. If anyone should be in a state of paranoia it should be me. But I felt oddly calm. A little tired and high, but otherwise, and feeling of fear and displacement I had from this morning was gone. I sighed.

"Chill out Z… no use wasting your energy on paranoia, when we have this hellhole to survive through." I said as the bell sounded through the school. We stood up to go to our next class, but for some reason I couldn't help thinking who is this Tim guy? And why did he lie?


	6. A Crappy Day

It was another long day of taunts and ridicule in Hell High school, and Axel, Dee, Z and I were walking towards the campus. Steven Anderson and his not so personal ho Amber Vernelli tortured Z and me about Pendanski's class, having things thrown at us, anywhere from erasers and spit wads all the way to food. I was still picking out those stupid potato stick chips out of my hair while Z was wrestling with a baloney sandwich that was unceremoniously shoved down his underpants and then mercilessly hiked up his crack in a twisted sort of wedgie.

"Hey, if I ended up setting the school on fire, do you think it'll be traced back to me?" Z said angrily as we walked down the small plateau to the HQ.

"Possibly, if you end up laughing maniacally and sing "Burn baby Burn" at the top of your lungs like I'm going to do as soon as I graduate." Axel growled as he used his gym towel to vigorously rub milk and paint out of his hair. He was covered in it from head to toe. Apparently he got into a tiff with one of the jock in class, and one well place "your mother" joke resulted in him having paint and milk for some reason being pelted at him, but he looked as if he were dipped into a pool of paint. Dee wasn't much better off; she tried to defend her brother, only to have a few cheerleaders pull her by her hair and start pouring glue and glitter, the art world's herpes, into her hair. She just looks so sad as she tried to shake off the excess glitter out of her hair.

"I don't necessarily think of The Trammps when I think of setting the school on fire." Z murmured as he fished out a slice of tomato from his shorts. He inspected it for a moment then tossed it over his shoulder.

"I think he's thinking of Ash… right bro?" Dee said as she painfully combed out the glitter from her hair.

Axel shook his head. "Nah, nah, the other band that has a song with that title. It's a newer song."

"Mercyme? That song is kinda… slow." Z said as he shook his leg, a slice of cheese and some lettuce fell out. Axel shook his head again.

"No not that band, baloney butt… Ana help me out." He turned to me as I shook out my shirt of more potato sticks.

"Umm… I think you're thinking of Blue Stahli. "Down in Flames" is the name of the song." I started to pantomime the chords in the air and Axel nodded in recognition.

"Yeah that's the one!" he exclaimed as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the HQ. As soon at the door was open both Z and Dee made a beeline towards the bathroom. I shook my head at the door and let whatever leftover pieces of chips fall out of my hair and clothes. What utter bullshit.

I sat down at my usual spot by the window and took out the unfinished joint from my bra. I lit it and cracked open the window, paying little attention to the bickering coming from the bathroom. I saw Tim outside, walking towards the HQ smoking a cigarette. I sighed and stood up as Axel snatched away my joint and plopped down in the lawn chair next to me.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he stripped off his t-shirt.

"We have company." I said as I opened the door. Tim was standing there with his hand up, as if he were about to knock.

"Oh… Hey." He said. I leaned against the door frame.

"What's up? Do you need anything?" I asked. He looked past me and straight at Axel, and his brows furrowed.

"Yeah, can you tell your friend to give back the keys he took from me?" I looked back at Axel and sigh. I held out my hand to him.

"Alright dipshit, hand them over." I said sternly. Axel looked at me innocently.

"I don't know what you mean Anarchy. I'm a good boy." He batted his eyelashes and blew some smoke rings. I frowned.

"Don't fuck with me. Hand them over." I said darkly. Axel dug in his bag quickly and tossed the key ring over to me.

"Alright, chill… jeez…" he said sullenly as I catch the key ring and hand it back to Tim I grabbed my bag and shut the door behind me.

"Here, I'm sorry about that. Axel has a bit of a klepto problem. Especially if he doesn't like someone." I shrugged on my bag as I grabbed my bike from the side of the shed and wheeled it towards Tim, who seemed to be waiting for me.

"Why does he dislike me?" he asked as we slowly made our way up the plateau. I shrugged.

"He doesn't like most people. It's whatever. I like ya, so I'll make sure you don't have to worry about him lifting shit off of you again." Tim smiled and rubbed his neck.

"Thanks… oh hey you know your chain is broken right?" he said pointedly.

"What?!" I looked down at the bike chain, and sure enough it was displaced from the pedals.

"Oh you've gotta be shitting me! I can't get to work with my bike like that… oooh crap…" I sighed and rubbed my face. This day just absolutely sucks. I kicked my bike over and started stomping my way up the plateau. Tim placed a hand on my shoulder. I shove off his hand from my shoulder and turn on him.

"What?!" I snarled. He held his hands up and took a step back.

"Whoa, relax. I was just going to offer you a ride to… wherever you were going. You had a crappy day, so I thought I'd help make it less crappy." He said. I looked at his face; he was sincere, but I didn't know him and I didn't want to be around anyone right now with how I was feeling. I took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I can walk on my own." I turned away from him and started my way back up the plateau. I felt his eyes on my back as I readjusted my messenger bag, and an eerie feeling of déjà vu washed over me.

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Alright, $4.73 is your change, have a good evening ma'am." I said cheerily as I handed an elderly woman her change and receipt. I dropped my smile as soon as she turned away. I stepped away from my cash register and stretched, feeling the awful polyester of my uniform bunch and wrinkle under my movements. I worked for a small independent super market company called "Stop N' Go". It was a locally owned one and there were stores all over the town. And I have the displeasure to be working as an associate of this hideous store. And all for a wonderful minimum wage. I pulled out my bottle of water from under the register and took a surreptitious swig from it, hoping I wouldn't be caught by-

"Christine!" Ah crap. I sighed, ignoring the twitch in my eye as I capped the bottle while the floor manager, Chuck came up to me. He was wearing the same uniform as I am, only with a tie and a shiny engraved name badge. His bright ginger hair was gelled back to the point of him looking like Alfalfa from _The Little Rascals_ and his beer belly hanging over the waist of his pants jiggled with each step. God, what a tool.

"Don't call me Christine, Chuck. That's not my name." I said, a frown plastered on my face.

"While you work in this store, it damn well is. Otherwise, I wouldn't have hired you. I don't mind so much the way you look, but "Anarchy" wouldn't look good to our store's image. So we use your middle name Christine." He said arrogantly. My eye twitched even more at the sound of his whiney, nasally voice.

"Oh please don't do me any favors." I said sardonically as I shoved my water bottle back under my register. He frowned and wagged a finger at me.

"Christine, how many time do I have to tell you: no eating or drinking at the registers. It'll look bad on us and it makes you look bad in front of the customers."

I looked around dramatically. "What customers? If you hadn't noticed, it's deader than Frankenstein's nutsack around here. Besides, I'm talking the entire time, my throat gets dry. I'm not damaging my larynx because of your stupid rules." I shut off my register's light and walked away from Chuck and his annoying mouth breathing.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. I flipped him off as I punched out my time card.

"Fuck off, I'm going home." I pulled off my uniform shirt as I reached under the register and grabbed my water bottle and messenger bag. I shoved my shirt into my bag, ignoring Chuck yelling at me to show him some respect. God I hate this job.

I walked out into the dark parking lot. The street lamps casting its orangey glow across the near empty lot. I pulled out a joint and lit it as I exited the parking lot and made my way down the dark street. I trudged along the strip, happy that I don't live that far from my stupid store. God I hate that place. I really wish Raoul did pressure me to get a job there. It's such a pain in the ass. I pulled out my ipod and slipped my head phones, letting my music distract me from the stressful day I've had.

After I had left school earlier, I had the unshakable feeling that I was being watched. I kept seeing shadows from the corners of my eyes as I had traveled to work. I looked around, feeling my paranoia rise again. I didn't see anyone, and that made me feel even worse. Not a pedestrian or a late night hoodlum, no one. There weren't even any crickets sounding as I walked down the street. I was coming up to the playground, which was eerily empty and silent. But from this point on I knew I halfway home. I turned up my music, letting the sweet guitar riffs of DethKlok drown out the emptiness.

As I walked past the jungle gym and see-saws in the empty park, I started to feel a bit better. Having my music really did help with the emptiness. Shit, I can't believe I let it get to me. Just as I walked past the swing set, my music cut out, followed by static. I paused and pulled out my ipod. The music was cutting in and out and static filled.

"Hmm… I did just download this album yesterday. Maybe I got a bugged copy." I thought out loud as I switched it to the Gorillaz. I clicked to _Stylo_ and let the music flow. I sat down on the swing as I sang along to the music and adjusted the buckles to my boots. I let my voice flow throughout the empty park, feeling my confidence rise with each note that flew from my lips. Then I heard it again; the static. It was faint this time, but then got progressively stronger. I sat up and flipped through my ipod again.

"Oh you have to be kidding me! Is this thing broken?" I tapped it against my palm, hoping some percussive maintenance would fix it. The static stopped and I instantly switched to another song. 19-2000. Great, I needed something more upbeat. I pushed myself back on the swing and started singing again. I swung myself a little, trying to shake off the stress of today.

Just as I started to feel better, I felt my phone buzz in my boot. I stopped swinging and took out my phone. It was my brother. Great.

"Hey Raoul." I answered, pulling out an ear bud.

"Where are you?" he said sternly. I rolled my eyes.

"In the park, heading home now. Why, what's up?"

"Korri is here. He says he has something to talk to you about. I'm not going to entertain your friend so don't dawdle." He sounded tired. I sighed and hung up the phone. My brother is an acerbic old man at twenty-five. I stood up from the swing and stretched. Time to go home.

Just as I started to make my way home, loud static sounded in my ears, followed by a sharp splitting headache. I yelped in pain and ripped my headphone out, only to heard the static even louder surrounding me. I started panicking; it couldn't be here! I looked around, half blinded by the extreme pain in my head. As I turn around, I felt my heart drop to my stomach. It was there behind the swings! I took a step back, feeling nausea rise within me. It didn't move. It just stood there staring at me. I started to breathe heavily, my anxiety rising with each second. What did it want? Oh god, was it still mad at me for last night?!

I was going to die, that's for certain. I couldn't look away as it's tentacle began to come towards me. I felt my vision grow fuzzy as the static grew louder. I don't want to die. I closed my eyes as I waited for my inevitable death.

"Ana!"


	7. Frustration and Sorrow

"Ana…. Anarchy! Oh god please wake up!" a deep voice said in a worried panic. The voice was familiar, and yet it sounded so far away. I stirred, struggling to open my eyes. I felt so dizzy, and I feared that I would vomit from the lightheadedness. I groaned softly to signal that I was awake. I felt myself being lifted upright and something soft being pressed against my nose.

"Oh, fuck! Ana… Anarchy please wake up…. This is all my fault…" I recognized his voice. It was Tim. I open my eyes, and looked up at Tim. He was pale and shaking as he held a handkerchief to my nose. He sighed in relief and gently moved the handkerchief away. I saw that there was blood on it.

"Wh-what happened?" I croaked, my throat feeling surprisingly raw, as if I had been screaming.

"It was that thing… I was walking past the park going home from the store, when I saw you sitting on the swing. I was about to call out to you when I saw it standing behind you. It wasn't moving, and you didn't seem to notice it. But the second you did, you looked like you were about to faint. So I ran to get you out of there. I called out to you, but it was like you had been petrified. Then you fainted. I managed to reach you in time to catch you and carry you away from the park. I think we've lost it for now. And I've been trying to rouse you for the last, I dunno, fifteen minutes." He took a deep breath. I blinked a few times to clear my vision. Damn, he looked as bad as I felt. I looked around at our surroundings and instantly started to panic; we were in the woods.

"Why are we here?!" I said, my breathing becoming rapid to keep up with the hard thrumming of my heartbeat. He shushed me and rubbed my back soothingly.

"Ana, Ana calm down. We aren't in the woods. We're still in the park." He said softly. I looked up at him, confused.

"What?" I looked around again. I saw the trees, but then I saw the soft orange glow of the street lights. You couldn't see the street lights from the woods, only the weird energy efficient soft blue glow lights. I took another deep breath, calming my panicked heartbeat. I stood up shakily.

"Why…?" I said softly, my breath hitched by a sob.

"What does it want from me…?" I looked at Tim. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then sighed.

"I don't know… let me take you home Ana." He grabbed my arm gently and lead me out of the park.

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Anarchy Christine Vahn, what took you so long to get home?!" Raoul exclaimed as I stepped through the door. I winced as his raised voice, still feeling a bit on edge after what happened.

"What do you mean?" I said, my voice cracking a bit.

"IT IS ONE IN THE MORNING!" He shouted, his face now red, and a vein throbbing on his temple. He was really piss. Shit.

"Fuck…. I'm sorry Raoul-"

"DO YOU KNOW HOW CLOSE I WAS TO CALLING THE POLICE?!" he shouted, cutting me off.

"I said I was sorry!"  
"'SORRY' DOESN'T CUT IT ANA!" he took a deep breath.

"Where were you?" his voice was deathly calm.

"Working." I deadpanned, my patience growing short due to my already frayed nerves.

"Don't lie to me Anarchy. When I had called you, you were already on your way home. Where were you?"

"I was attacked by some faceless demon thingy and had been unconscious in the park for a few hours" I said straight out. Raoul's face started to turn red again.

"So you just passed out from smoking?! Goddammit Ana! You know better than that! I dont understand how you can be so stupid!"

"Fuck you Raoul! I'm not stupid!" I shoved him with my shoulder and stormed into my room, ignoring him and his yelling as I slammed and locked my door behind me.

I threw my bag across the room and slid my back against the door, sitting on the floor. I rocked back and forth for a while, fighting back the sobs that threatened to escape. I was so tired. That fucking thing in the park… it wasn't a dream or a hallucination. Tim saw it too. He- he saved me from it. I don't know how he did it either. I just can't believe it. It's real. And its following me.

I stood up, wincing at the dull ache in my leg. I grabbed my amp and plugged it in, being mindful of its shitty damaged wire. I opened my window and laced the amp onto the fire escape. I then grabbed my shiny black Fender Stratocaster and climbed out onto my balcony. I plugged it into my amp and flipped it on. I adjusted the strap, making it more comfortable to wear and sat on the rail, putting up my good leg to support myself. I strummed it a few times, and quickly tuned my underused Fender with professional precision. I then blasted my amp, not caring about the neighbors and started playing one of my most favorite guitar solos. It was from an old movie called _The Crow._ I closed my eyes and let my fingers play the haunting and chilling melody, letting my frustration and sadness flow into the cords. I played the first part of the solo in a sort of seamless loop, entranced by the way the cords sounded; almost like a tragically beautiful operetta sung by a desolate and downtrodden musician crying out their frustrations and sadness into the night.

I then allowed myself to play the full solo after some time. I poured my anger and frustration into the cords, my fingers flying across the bar, speeding up until I hit the climax of the solo. I then slammed on my vibrato bridge, allowing the sound to vibe and distort while I screamed. I screamed out of frustration, anger and fear. I screamed until my voice cracked. I coughed hard and sobbed, dropping my hands and accidentally making hideous notes sound from my amp.

I took in deep breaths after a few minutes and adjusted my Stratocaster. It had belonged to my dad once upon a time. He was a great musician in his youth, and continues to be a great countertenor on Broadway. My mother was a soprano, and they both had trained me into singing classically, as I had dreamed of being a musician like my parents. I swallowed, feeling guilty for having screamed like that. Straining my vocal cords like that would do nothing for me… but it did make me feel better. I began to strum again, playing the chords to _Cry, Little Sister_ , another favorite from an old-school movie. I half hummed/ half sung the song, filling the quiet night with my music that I don't have the guts to sing out otherwise.

" _Cryyyy, Little sisterrr…_

 _Cooooome to your Brother-_

 _Unchaiin me, sister-_ "

"…Fear…" I stopped playing. That sounded like it was breathed right into my ear. I looked around and saw no one. I swallowed the dry feeling in my throat. I must've imagined it. After all, the back-up chorus to that last line was "Thou shall not fear". Maybe I was just thinking it. I shook my head and started to play a different song; another solo from Dethklok this time. I played the strife solo, caressing the bar as I did. I kept my eyes half closed, admiring the echo the chords made in the silent night. I then did a transition, melding the strife solo with the _Crow_ solo and began playing the latter. Just as I hit the vibrato bridge again, my amp began to distort unpleasantly, and static resounded from it. I unplugged my guitar, and the second I did the amp blew out.

"Mother fuck!" I shouted, kicking the amp to put out the small fire that had started. I managed to put it out in a few short stomps, then promptly ripped out the power cord and threw it over the rail and into the alley garbage can. I sighed, wishing I had gotten home earlier to hound Korri for the three hundred bones. Fuck my life, and fuck that faceless thing that was in the park. I climbed back in through the window, ready to light up one last joint and turn in for the night.


	8. Early Morning Stalker

_The hooded one was amused as he listened to the astounding music his charge was playing. The emotion she put into it, no wonder his master was interested. But why… why did his partner interfere earlier? Master simply wanted to observe the girl. Perhaps, he thought, his master went too far in trying to touch her. She wasn't ready yet. But he didn't wish to go against his master's wishes. Not again. He had already done too much to protect innocent people; a fault from his past life that he kept. But he ultimately had to kill those he tried to protect, with the exception of his partner, of course. He couldn't kill him. But he dearly wished his partner would just accept his fate already. He was fighting a losing battle, and the outcome would be death. His partner was marked from day one and he knew it._

 _The hooded one waited a long while after his charge retreated back indoors. He waited until he was sure she was asleep. He stealthily climbed down the fire escape ladder and stood outside of her window. It was slightly open, and he could hear and smell everything from inside. The lingering marijuana smoke and her soft whimpers in her sleep. He peered inside only to see her in a tank-top and shorts, her purple hair loose and tangled as she tossed and turned in a fit. The hooded one shook his head pityingly. The nightmares. The haunting nightmares his master caused when he wanted himself to be known to his prey. It was the first sign of the sickness. It was dubbed Slender Sickness by those before who had fallen prey to his master's power. Even he himself had experienced it first hand when he first became a proxy. It was his former self trying to rebel against his new instincts, and it had been hard. Merciless even. The medicine was his salvation; the same medicine his partner now took to stave off the impending change._

 _His partner was truly stronger than him, and he envied that. When he was … "awake" as the hooded one liked to call it, he was a formidable ally and a merciless hunter. But in his current state… he was harmless. His "slumbering" state…._

 _He quickly hid from view as the girl sat up like a shot in her bed, sweating and panting as if she has run a mile in five minutes. She then leaned over and vomited. The hooded one winced. He remembered that feeling as well. Like vomiting corrosive acid and fire. He wondered what kind of dream it could have been. She shakily got out of her bed after a while. He observed her carefully, being mindful to stay out of her line of sight as she, curiously enough, took out a black violin case out from under her bed. He moved quickly, climbing up to the next balcony as she slid open the window and clambered out. The hooded one watched from below as she leaned back into her window and pulled out a violin. It shined in the street light, a well-polished piece of wood that seems very well cared for._

 _She leaned against the rail and tightened the bow, giving it more tension. She then tapped the bow against her leg as she took a deep breath. She raised the bow and violin and began to play. The hooded one was completely taken aback- he didn't think she was capable of such beautiful melody! It was_ Ave Maria _she was playing, but the emotions the music was making him feel; the emotion so strong that he could just about taste it, unnerved him. She was incredible he thought, as he watched her play, her eyes closed as she gracefully moved. She seemed to dance almost, her body swaying and flowing with the melody she played. He stood watching, completely entranced._

 _"_ _Ana?" A voice said, interrupting the music. The hooded one started, awakening from the trance as the girl stopped playing. A man with messy blonde hair poked his head out of the window. She turned to him._

 _"_ _Erik… what are you doing awake?" she said, her voice hoarse._

 _"_ _I heard the music. You had the dream again, didn't you?" he said, stepping out onto the fire escape, wearing nothing but shorts. She sighed. The hooded one was confused. Did this man know about his master as well? Or was it something else that he spoke of?_

 _"_ _Yeah… the one with mom. It was different this time…. But still just as bad." She said, her voice soft with sorrow. The man patted her head._

 _"_ _Wanna come inside? I'll make breakfast and we can talk about it." He offered but she shook her head._

 _"_ _Not right now. I- I just wanna play for a while." She lifted the violin and resumed playing. The man, Erik, leaned against the rail opposite of the girl and said nothing. He pulled a joint from his pocket and lit it. The hooded one crinkled his nose. He hated the foul smell. They were silent again, only the sounds of the violin resounded in the emptiness._

 _"_ _Are you going with us this year to go see her?" Erik said after some time. She stopped playing._

 _"…_ _I dunno" she sighed and grabbed the joint. She inhaled the smoke and looked out into the distance, past the buildings into the woods that was just some ways away. They said nothing for a while, then Erik wrapped his arm around her._

 _"_ _Come on, sis, let's go eat." He climbed back through the window. she looked back out towards the woods, a concerned frown set upon her face, then she climbed back inside._

 _The hooded one waited, then snuck his way into her room. It was what he expected; torn between a punk teenager's room, with posters of movies and rock bands, makeup and clothes scattered about; to a music studio, with half of the room padded with sound muffling foam on the walls and instruments of varying types lined up against the wall. The hooded one walked up to the instruments. There were guitars of varying types all neatly resting on their stands, an expensive looking keyboard in the corner, numerous wind instruments in their cases, large and small, and other string instruments, such as a cello, violin and a viola, and even a small lyre._

 _A prodigy it seems, the hooded one thought as he admired the neatness of the instruments opposed to the sloppiness of her other possessions. He began to carefully search her room, looking for the thing that his master wanted from her. He searched her bag, clothes and dressers for the pages. She still had them, and his master wanted them back. Just as he opened her night stand table, the violin case was knocked from the bed. The hooded one cursed under his breath and made a dash to the window, vanishing just as the bed room door opened._

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"What was that?!" I said to my brother, hearing a loud thud coming from my bedroom. He shrugged as he grabbed his metal baseball bat. He passed it to me as I made my way to my room. I opened the door, holding up my bat, only to see nothing out of place in my room. My violin case was on the floor. I leaned my bat against the door and picked up the thankfully locked hard case. I felt an unpleasant presence fade from my room, as if someone were in here that shouldn't have been. I gulped nervously. I placed my violin case back under my bed and looked around to see if anything was missing. Everything seemed to be in pla- I froze. The drawer of my night stand table, where the photos and pages are, was ajar. I pulled open the drawer and shifted around the papers and books. I sighed, relieved to see the PROOF folder still on the bottom of the drawer.

"Anything missing Ana?" Erik asked, looking around the room. I shut the drawer and shook my head.

"No… it doesn't look like it." I stood up.

"What is going on?" Raoul said, walking into my room finger combing his hair. Even when he's in his pajamas: an oversized _Punisher_ t-shirt and cotton plaid pattered pajama pants, he tries to look neat and well groomed. He wrinkled his nose and grimaced as he entered my room.

"Eugh… it reeks of vomit in here. Anarchy, are you okay? Are you sick?" he said. I didn't say anything to him. I was still mad at him.

"She had the dream again." Erik said. Raoul's face softened. He then placed the back of his hand on my forehead, which I shook off.

"You have a slight fever. You should take some medicine and got back to bed." he said, grabbing my trash pail that I puked in. I bit my lip, annoyed.

"I'll be fine. I don't need any medicine. Look," I pointed to the clock. "it's a quarter to six. I'm going to get ready for school. Get out." I closed the door on my brothers and started getting dressed. I slipped on a pair of dark denim jeans, a black camisole and purple and green fishnet overtop. I opened my closet and pulled out a metallic black under-bust corset, decorated in black and silver lace and thin silver chains. I wrapped it around my waist and zipped it on, adjusting it comfortably. I looked at myself in the mirror, frowned then pulled off the corset, camisole and fishnet top. I then pulled on the fishnet top, a black zombie hunter baby-doll t-shirt over it and put the corset back on. I smiled. That feels so much better. I zipped up my boots and grabbed my messenger. I looked at my drawer, thinking about the PROOF folder. Whoever was in my room was looking for it. I pulled it out of the drawer and shoved it into my bag. Feeling a bit better, I quickly applied my dark makeup and purple lipstick and left my room.

"Hey shorty, do you want some waffles before you go?" Erik said, still in his shorts toasting some frozen waffles in the toasters. I shrugged and grabbed a few of them from the plate on the counter, as well as an apple from the fruit bowl. He then handed me a juice pouch.

"Are you okay, Ana?" he said, concerned. I nodded.

"I'm okay, really. I have to get going." I pulled out my phone and texted Korri, apologizing for bailing on him and asked him to meet me at the HQ. I got a reply back almost instantly, and took that as my que to leave. I shouted goodbye to my brothers and slammed the door behind me. I chomped on the waffle as I made my way downstairs. As I made my way down to the lobby, Eddie stopped to greet me.

"Miss Ana! Good morning." He said cheerily. I smiled at him.

"Mornin' Eddie."

"Did you sleep well miss Ana?" he asked, wiping down the front desk.

"Eh… yourself?" I popped the mostly eaten waffle in my mouth.

"Ah, I slept okay. By the way, your friend came by this morning. Dropped off your bike." He said a bit gruffly.

"My bike?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Who brought back my bike?"

"A young man, I assume one of your friends. Hang on," he went into his office and sure enough, he wheels out my bike, as good as new. He hands me a folded envelope.

"He wanted me to give you this with your bike. I think he may like you." Eddie chuckled as I opened the letter.

 _'_ _I fixed your bike. I'm sorry for last night. If you ever want to talk about it, you can trust me. See you later.'_

 _-Tim_

I felt a smile pull at my lips. How sweet.


	9. Harassed

I whizzed past some of the houses and cars as I rode my bike down the street. The sun just barely rose, the sky lightening to a calm, gentle blue. I pedaled at a moderate pace, one hand on the handlebars and the other holding onto the apple I'm munching on. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I tossed the apple core behind me and pulled out my phone.

"Yo?" I answered.

"Ana? Hey." Said Korri's sleepy voice from the other end.

"Hey, I'm sorry I bailed on you last night. Weird shit happened last night." I pressed my phone to my ear with my shoulder as I used both my hands to turn a corner. Just as I swung the corner, I spotted an undercover cop car not too far ahead of me.

"Shit… Korri, I'll see you at the HQ." I said.

"'Kay, see you in a bit." He said. I hung up the phone and quickly shoved it into my pocket as I rode pass the car. Almost instantly the car's sirens went off and the car followed me and signaled for me to pull over. I swore under my breath as I slowed myself and pulled up to the curb. The cop pulled up next to me. I sighed and fixed an innocent smile on my face. The cop stepped out of his car. He was a large, burly man, wearing his uniform. He had salt and pepper hair and dark stubble. He clearly had an overnight shift. He walked up to me.

"Good morning Officer." I said cheerily, flashing my smile.

"Mornin'" he said gruffly. I gripped my handlebars nervously.

"Did… did I do something wrong officer?" I said sweetly.

"You're riding your bike in the middle of the street without a helmet. That's against the law in this town young lady." He pulls out his ticket book. I sighed.

"I'm sorry officer. My helmet had cracked a few days ago, I was going to buy a new one after school today." I lied. I hated wearing helmets. They gave me headaches.

"No excuses. What's your name?" he said irritably.

"Anarchy Vahn." I said, defeated.

He looked at me. "Haha, very funny. Now give me your real name."

"That is my name, sir. Anarchy Vahn." I said, looking him in the eye. I was starting to get irritated. I don't like cops. Even when I lived back in New York, I hated getting harassed by cops.

The cop bristled. "Get off of the bike, you little shit." He growled. I rolled my eyes and kicked the stand into place.

"Place your hands on the vehicle. I'm going to frisk you."

"The hell you are!" I said incredulously. What the actual fuck?!

"You stink of pot, girl, and it's either I frisk you for paraphernalia or I arrest you. Take your pick." He said, pocketing his ticket book and pushed up his sleeves.

"I can give you my I.D-" I said, reaching into my messenger bag, which I immediately realized as a big mistake. The cop instantly reached for his gun and I shot my hands up into the air.

"Hands on the car! NOW!" he shouted. I gulped and, shooting him a dirty look, placed my hands on the car. He kicked my ankles apart and started to frisk me. I felt so uncomfortable as he ran his hands from my arms and shoulders to my waist, buttock and legs. His hands moved uncomfortably slow on my thighs. I took a deep breath, suppressing my disgust. I tensed as he squeezed my ass. Pig.

He then dug into my bag, and the first thing he pulled out was a cigarillo case, that was filled with pre-rolled joints. He opened the case and whistled low.

"Well, well, look what we have here." He said, an ugly smirk on his face. I felt the color drain from my face.

"It's medicinal." I said quickly. He chuckled as he snapped the case closed.

"Oh really?" He dug his gross hands into my bag again and pulled out my wallet.

"Huh, now let's see who you really are." He opened my wallet and started pulling out my identification and medical cards, as well as my medicinal marijuana registry card.

""Anarchy Christine Vahn- Sorello. Born on August Second. Seventeen years old. Five foot three. One hundred and eight pounds. Blonde Hair. Green eyes. Organ donor."" He read off of my I.D card. He then pulled out my medicinal marijuana card. He scanned his eyes up and down the card, then pulled out my medical information card and began to read off of it.

"'Anarchy Vahn, treated by medicinal marijuana due to allergic reaction to most pharmaceutical pain killers. Treatment with minimal amounts of morphine if admitted. Marijuana therapy treatment for chronic pain, PTSD and anxiety. Currently within physical therapy treatments twice a week…' blah blah blah" he said, shoving the cards, sans I.D and medical card, back into my wallet and threw it into my bag, along with the cigarillo case. He looked at my I.D, then at me.

"So you weren't lying huh? What kind of hippies would name their kid "Anarchy"?" he shook his head and I bit my lip. This fucker was starting to piss me off.

"Can I go now?" I said through gritted teeth. He looked at me and smirked.

"Not a chance. I'm going to take down your info, then I'm going to put you into the car and we're going to the station."

"Why?!" I turn to him, but he slammed me back onto the car's hood.

"Possession, you little shit. I'm making my quota today. No I.D, no medical card. No helmet. Your little punk ass is going to jail!" he said, slipping my cards into his pocket.

"Fuck you, you pig!" I spat, and he slammed me down hard against the hood again. I heard the clicking of metal as he pulled out his hand cuffs.

"Feisty aren't you? Well don't worry, the boys and I will take care of that down at the station." He chuckled darkly as he cuffed my left wrist. I sighed, defeated.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound of breaking glass. We looked up to see the driver's side window shattered.

"The fuck?!" the cop shouted, letting me go. I looked up towards the wooded area of the road. It was the hooded figure from my dreams. He looked at me, nodded slightly and ran.

"Get back here you punk!" the cop shouted, running after him, his gun drawn. He disappeared into the trees. I stood up, flexing my arms. I looked at the cuff on my left wrist and sighed. I guess I'll have to have Korri pick the lock for me. I mounted my bike quickly and pedaled away, hoping that perverted cop doesn't come back too soon.

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

"Hold still" Korri said, holding a bobby pin in between his teeth. He had already bent one at an angle and was trying to put it into the lock, but my hands couldn't stop shaking. In fact, my whole body couldn't stop shaking. I was torn between anger and fear. Anger because of what happened with the cop this morning, and fear because I saw that hooded figure. It didn't register when I had biked away, but the second I was in sight of the HQ it hit me and I almost fell of my bike. But… why would he help me?

Korri grabbed my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Ana, chill."

I sighed and took a calming breath. "Sorry…. But it's just…. That fucking cop pissed me off so much! 'I'm making my quota today' goddamn asshole! Taking my and trying to pin me with a crime I haven't committed. It's profiling! Just because I look like this," I swept my hand up and down my person, "He thinks he can pin drug possession on me. Hell, he'd probably plant heroin needles and baggies of cocaine on me if he had the chance!"

Korri inserted the bobby pins into the lock and started working on it. "He was just an asshole. You get those types everywhere. What I want to know is, how did you get away?" he jiggled the handcuff, emphasizing his question. I bit my lip.

"Some dude threw a rock at the cop's car and broke a window. He ran and the asshole ran after him. So I just left." I shrugged and Korri laughed.

"Wow…" he breathed, shaking his head and returning his attention to the lock. I took out my juice pouch and stabbed it open with the straw. I took a drink as I watched Korri pick the lock. I let my thoughts roam.

Last night I saw that faceless thing, and just today one of his lackeys saved me from getting unjustly arrested. It doesn't make any sense. What does it want from me? One moment I think it wants to kill me, the next minute it's sending its lackeys to rescue me from trouble. I shifted my eyes to my back. The PROOF folder… of course! It wants the pages back.

A click brought me out of my thoughts. "There we go!" Korri said proudly. He held up the handcuffs. I rubbed my wrist and smiled.

"Free at last! Thanks Korri." I grabbed my bag, and grabbed my Spanish guitar case that I had left here yesterday. I walked to the door.

"Skipping school?" he slipped the handcuffs into his pocket. I shook my head.

"There's something I just remembered I have to take care of, so yeah. Besides, I have Pendanski for two periods today, and I'm not gonna deal with that today." I shuttered, thinking about how horrible she's going to be to me when she sees me. I did skip out of her detention after all.

"Yikes, well go on. Get out of here before anyone sees ya. I have a lecture today myself. So boring!" he sighed.

"Oh hey, before I forget…" he plopped an envelope in my hand.

"Three hundred diablos. Like I promised." I smiled.

"Hey, thanks. My amp blew out last night too. So I can buy a new one tonight." I put the envelope in my back and strapped my guitar onto my bike. Once it was secure, we walked out of the HQ.

"Hey, um..." Korri said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. I swung my leg over my seat.

"Hm?"

"Um… just so you know, there isn't anything wrong with the way you look. You're really pretty." He looked down.

I felt my face heat up. "O-oh… um… thanks." I said, feeling a bit awkward and embarrassed. I pushed off and pedaled towards the street, heading to the last place I wanted to go.


	10. The Mansion

I unhooked my guitar case from my bike and strapped it to my back. I readjusted my messenger bag and turned to the fence. I faced the "Restricted: Do Not Enter" sign and took a deep breath. Was I really going to go back into that forest in broad daylight? Looks like it. At least it was day time. I climbed over the fence, being careful of my case. I jumped down and looked around. Even in broad daylight, the forest looked dim and dismal. I pulled out the folder and a sharpie and quickly wrote the word "SORRY" on the front. I grimaced and put the folder back into my bag. I suck at apologies, but hopefully if I returned the pages and apologized, it would leave me alone. It was one hell of a stretch, but it was worth a shot. I straighten out my clothes and made my way down the path.

It felt so different walking down the path during the day, although not by much. I still had the feeling that I was being followed. Considering what has happened in the last couple of days, I probably am being followed. I ignored the feeling as I made my way towards the one place I know I could get into contact with that thing and/or his minions: The dead tree. It was in the center of the forest and no doubt they would probably be somewhere around there. And if not they would be eventually. I don't know why, but I feel like that area is like the hub area of this forest. At least, for this part of it. I know for a fact that this place was huge! This gated part of the forest was a small portion compared to the pedestrian accessible parts to it. But this part was gated off for a reason. I suspect it was because of the murders that happened here a long time ago. Korri had once told me when the whole "Legend" thing came up. Z told me it was because of the monster that lived here, and it was meant to protect the children from treading onto its territory. I couldn't tell you, at this point, which facsimile of the reason is true, however what I do know that I'm here now and am about to face this creature again for a third time!

I should be dead. I really think I'm asking for it now, walking in this forest like I own the joint! I've never been one to be suicidal, but I think this is seriously pushing it. I should just pin the folder to a tree and just leave. But then again, I'm not all that smart either. The dead tree came into view. It was definitely creepy, even during the day, its thick trunk, dark, almost black bark, and gnarled branches and roots looking like they were about to lash out and grab you. I gulped. I really was passing the point of no return here. I might die here. Today. Well at least I have my favorite guitar to die with. I exhaled and continued to the tree. As soon as I came up to it, I felt a little bit nervous. On edge. My hands were shaking as I placed them onto the tree's trunk. It felt oddly cold. I placed my guitar case down and settled myself in its large gnarled roots. I adjusted my bag and pulled out a hair tie from my bag. I tied up my hair tightly; in case I had to run, I'd rather keep it out of my face. I then took out my guitar and started to strum.

I played no song in particular, but just strung together some chords for an impromptu melody. It sounded nice, kind of sharp and wicked.

"This would sound better on my Strato…" I murmured to myself and chuckled. I started playing _Maria_ by Carlos Santana. It was my go to, whenever I played my Spanish guitar. It was the first song I learned how to play by ear, and not from a music sheet. It was my first step from moving away from the classical genre. Not that my parents were strictly about classical and opera. My father certainly wasn't, considering that he got his start by playing grunge out of his garage, but mom was hoping for me to one day take her place on Broadway as Christine Daäe in _Phantom of the Opera_. Of course, I would have been a star if I hadn't stopped my vocal training. Being a mezzo-soprano, I had an extremely wide range. Hell I was even called a prodigy at one point, due to being a "natural" and a fast learner. Same with musical instruments. Give me any instrument and some sheet music and I could write a whole symphony if I'd wanted to. But I did want to go back into theatre. Maybe someday.

I started singing the song as I played it, tapping my foot against a thick root to give myself some bass beats. My voice carried and echoed; the forest being so quiet, I was sure that anyone would be able to hear me from a mile away. I was expecting someone or something to pop out at any more. Hell, I was welcoming it. I closed my eyes as I played, allowing myself to get lost in the song. It was an upbeat song, with a great _West Side Story_ element in it that made it an instant favorite for me. I then went to just some tuneless strumming as the song finished.

As I thought about what to play next, I heard a crack of a twig. I froze for a second and opened my eyes. I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye. I continued strumming almost instantly, not looking at the shadow directly. I couldn't tell if it was the monster, or one of its underlings. They were just a little too far out of my vision. Nevertheless, I started strumming a different song. I figured, since I was here to apologize, might as well sing an apology song. I started strumming slower, falling into the chords of _Forgive Me_ by Evanescence.

I began to sing, letting my heartfelt apology translate into the music. I closed my eyes, not only to feel the music, but if that thing was to kill me right now, I'm going to die feeling the most wonderful feeling I only get when I play music: Happiness. I felt its presence come closer, but I didn't waiver. I allowed my voice to carry, filling the macabre silence with that little bit of happiness that I could share.

Then the strangest thing happened. I felt as if someone was right in front of me as I came to the crescendo of the song.

" _So Staaaaay with meee…_ "

It got closer.

" _You look in my eyes and I'm screaming inside…_ "

Cold fingers touched my cheek. I didn't waiver. I opened my eyes, and stared directly into its face.

" _That I'm Soooooooooooooryyyy_ " I sang, my echo making an effective back up chorus. I closed my eyes again as I ended that note, and played the last chords on my guitar. I took a deep breath as I let my hands drop limply from the guitar, letting the last chord fade into the air.

" _Can you for give …me…. again…?_

 _You're my one…._

M-my one…" I couldn't finish the song. I just stared death in its no-face. I felt ill. I think I'm going to fucking throw up. I swallowed the dry feeling in my throat, and slowly opened my eyes.

It stood there, a few yards away from me. I heard no static. I just felt nauseous. Although I'm pretty sure that's just from me being extremely afraid right now. It was just standing there, and looking at me. Well I guess he was looking in my general direction. He didn't have a face, so it was kind of hard to tell. He was extremely tall, with long arms, long legs, long torso- shit, he just looks like someone stretched him out while he was wearing a morph suit! Although the whole no-face thing was pretty terrifying. And the tentacles that were thankfully out of sight, as well as that horrifying mouth that he tore into his skin on out first encounter. In fact, looking at him now, I would just think that he was just a very tall businessman wearing a morph suit underneath his suit. That's about as scary as Meatloaf Monday in school (which is pretty damn terrifying, but not something to write H.P Lovecraft about.). But knowing what he was capable of, I still was cautious.

Without taking my eyes off of him, or making sudden movements, I placed my guitar back into its case. I then closed the case and stood up, wiping the dirt from my ass. I stepped over the roots of the tree and walked closer to him. He made no movement, except his head, looking down at me as I came closer. I craned my neck to look up at him when I was just a few feet away.

"Hi…" I said softly. We stood there for some time, staring at each other. I started to feel awkward, having him staring at me, as well as me just blatantly staring at him. I looked down for a moment, keeping him in my field of vision as I reached into my back and pulled out the folder. I held it out to him "SORRY" side up and felt my face heat up in embarrassment. I'm really not used to saying sorry.

"H-here," I stammered, looking down at the folder. There were no movements from him. I peeked up at him through my lashes. He head was tilted to the side and his brow bone was furrowed. I cleared my throat, feeling even more awkward.

"Everything's here! Even the photos I took, so take it! I don't need it." I said a bit aggressively, my nerves starting to affect me. He stood motionless. Dammit, if he didn't take this stupid folder from me I was going to shoved it into his chest and run the fuck out of here!

He stood still for another moment more, then slowly reached for the folder. My hands began to shake as I saw his long, pale white fingers close around the folder. I let go the second he had his grip firm on it. I took a breath as he looked at the folder, not bothering to open it as he then slipped it into his ink black suit jacket. I nodded.

"Okay… well, I'm just gonna… go…then…" I said lightly, walking backwards to grab my case. I stepped carefully, retracing my steps so I don't fall over.

It happened in a blink. I mis-stepped, my heel hitting an exposed root. I felt myself falling backwards into the tree. I gasped and closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact. But it never came. Instead I felt a strong, large hand on my back stopping me from falling. I opened my eyes. The monster was hovering over me, his arm around me, his hand on my back and his other on the back of my head. I stared, wide eyed at him. He just…. Saved me… from cracking my head open? The fuck….?

)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(

I was floating… at least, that's how it felt. Like I was floating on a warm, soft cloud. I opened my eyes, half expecting to see the sky and trees, only to be met with a dark, high ceiling. I blinked a few times, then sat up. I was in a bedroom, laying on a, I'm guessing, queen sized bed. It was a four poster bed with hazy mesh grey curtains. I pulled them back and looked around; it was a decent sized room, with a full vanity, a large window with dark lace curtains, a polished cherry wood dresser with matching nightstand tables. A porcelain lamp with a lace lampshade sat on one of the nightstands. I slipped off the bed and looked walked towards the vanity. It looked stocked with expensive make-up of various brands and colors. I picked up the silver handled hairbrush. It was heavy and very vintage. I placed it down and moves away from the vanity. I opened the closet and gasped. It was a walk in closet chock full of clothing. Shirts, dresses, skirts, corsets, hosiery and shoes of all colors, types and styles. I closed the closet and opened a door that was next to it. It was a full bathroom. I walked inside. It was like stepping inside the Victorian ages, with an old school toilet whose water tank was suspended up high and chain pulley to flush, a basin sink with polished brass faucets and a beautiful white and gold porcelain claw foot tub with the same style brass faucets. The tile on the walls and floors were elegantly patterned in black and white with gold accents. A large golden frame mirror hung above the sink. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like hell; my hair was a tangled mess and my makeup was horribly streaky and smudged. I went to the sink and turned the faucet. Cool water spilled from the faucet.

"Well, at least there's running water…" I murmured. I took the bar of sweet smelling soap from the soap dish above the sink, worked it into a lather, and began to wash my face. I scrubbed off all the make-up and dirt from my face and rinsed it clean. I patted my face dry with the hand towel that was hanging on the brass rack. I sigh. That made me feel a lot better!

Feeling refreshed, I left the bathroom I found my boots at the foot of the bed. I didn't even know I was barefooted. I slipped them back on. I sighed and looked around the room. Where was I? I know I was in someone's house, but how did I get here? I don't remember anything since the forest… with that thing…

I shook my head. I don't remember what happened after I gave it back the folder. I strained my memory, but it was nothing but fuzzy darkness. I saw a bit of white on the night table. It was a folded note. I opened the note to see the most elegant writing I have ever seen outside of Broadway. Even the paper was old: it was more like parchment than paper. I smoothed out the parchment and read:

 _My dearest Ms. Anarchy Vahn,_

 _I welcome you to my mansion. This is a safe place; a sanctuary from the evils of the world. Within these walls, no harm shall come to you. Not from my proxies, nor from myself. Everything you wish to have, any item or accommodation, will be yours upon request. My only request, Ms. Vahn, is that you do not attempt to leave the mansion. Feel free to explore your new home, however stay away from the west most corridor. I will fetch you this evening for dinner._

 _~S.M_

I folded the parchment, feeling confused and angry. My new home? What does he mean by that? Does this "S.M" intend to keep me prisoner here?! Fuck that. I crumpled the note and threw it onto the floor. I grabbed my messenger bag and slung it around my chest. I then flung open the door violently. I looked down the dim hallway. There seemed to be no one here, and the only light source seems to be coming from old school oil lamps affixed to the walls. The dark green wall paper almost looked black in the dim light, giving this Victorian style mansion an eerie atmosphere. I swallowed the creepy feeling in my throat and began to make my way down the hall.

 _ **~Hey everyone! Happy new year! sorry for not updating much, been very busy trying to get some things together for the new year. Going to be very busy for the next few months, what with school and all, but I will update Melodies and An Interesting Development as often as I can. I hope everyone one had a wonderful holiday, and there will be more to come soon. I appreciate any and all reviews and thank everyone who left such wonderful comments on my fics. I adore you all~ S.A~**_


	11. The West Corridor

I walked slowly down the hallway, careful to avoid looking at the realistically gruesome paintings on the walls. I walked quietly, listening out for any noise that weren't made by me. All that could be hear were the slight creaks of the floorboards underneath my feet. I groaned inwardly at the slight tightening pain in my calves as I walked down this abnormally long hallway. I let out a breath in relief when I finally, after what felt like an hour, made it to an open walkway. There was a staircase immediately to my left, as well as a hallway going towards my right and one going straight down. I looked over the rail of the staircase that looked out to the entryway of the mansion. I could see the bottom floor, with the large, ornate front door just within reach! I began to descend the stairs, but stopped as soon as my foot hit the step.

It was faint, but I was more than sure I heard a groan. I listened intently, straining my hearing for the sound. After a moment I heard a distant cough. I felt my heart in my throat. There couldn't be someone else here! I wasn't the only victim, and I didn't know if this information was a relief or a cause for dread. I listened carefully and began to follow the sounds of the coughing. I strained my ear and began walking forward, into another corridor. The corridor led to a dark hallway, and the coughing and groans of pain began to sound louder. I sped up my walking, the coughing was getting more aggressive and harsh. Was this person sick? It made me worry all the more for this person. I gotta get him out of here. We need to get out of here.

As I made my way down the dark hall, I heard another sound of movement that sounded as if it were coming from far behind me. I placed my hand on the wall, unable to see any further into the darkness. I had hoped that whomever was coming this way also had poor night vision. I looked behind me and gasped. It was the hooded figure I had seen earlier! I put my hands out in front of me, feeling around for something I can hide behind in this dark hallway. My hand eventually hit against what felt like a small table. I felt a little more of it and recognized what it was. It was a davenport desk! I felt underneath it and found that there was just enough room for me to crouch under it. Frantically I crouched down and pressed my back against the wood of the davenport, hugging my knees close to my chest, hoping that I would just blend into the design of the desk. I took slow, shallow breaths as the footsteps neared. I tucked the toes of my boots inward as the steps began to slow then come to a stop right in front of me. I held my breath, no moving, not making a sound as the sound of my heartbeat echoed hard in my ears. The coughing was getting worse as I heard the footsteps shuffle around, as if the person was turning around, looking for something. _Looking for me!_ I thought as sweat began to trickle down my forehead and my head began to hurt.

The footsteps then took off into a sprint, away from the hallway. I waited another moment then took a deep breath. I regained my breath and then crawled from under the desk. The coughing and groaning was becoming louder, which reassured me that I was getting close to finding the other trapped person. I moved quickly, keeping my hands on the wall to avoid falling over. I felt like I was nearing the end of the hall. I looked behind me; the only light from the staircase was just a pinpoint now, like a light at the end of a long tunnel. I swallowed the dry feeling in my throat and continued forward. After a moment I stopped, my hand touching what felt like a door. The coughing sounded the loudest behind this door. I jiggled the handle. It was locked. I crouched down and looked through the key hole.

The room looked destroyed, like whoever was inside had a fit and threw everything around. The wallpaper was slashed. The furniture was upended and broken, the mattress was on the floor and overturned and the wooden bed frame was broken into pieces. Never mind the mirror or the porcelain artifacts; the floor was littered with the broken pieces. I shifted slightly, looking for the coughing man. I saw him just barely outside my field of vision, huddled up in the corner with a dingy bronze jacket and worn out jeans. I pulled out a couple of bobby pins from my hair and started to pick the old fashioned lock. I worked quickly, thankful to Korri for teaching me how to pick locks, and heard the click of the door unlocking.

Placing the bobby pins back into my hair, I slowly and carefully opened the door. There was a faint light of a light bulb coming from the opposite corner of the room. It seems that though the lamp was smashed, the wiring worked just fine. I looked around and carefully made my way to the coughing man, whose cough was becoming violent again. I stepped closer to him, crunching a piece of porcelain under my boot. He looked up at me and I gasped.

"Tim?!" I breathed. I moved closer to him and kneeled down beside him. He looked horrible. He had dark circles under his eyes and was unusually pale. I touched his hand. They felt like ice.

"Ana?" he croaked as he looked at me. I reached into my bag and took out a half filled water bottle. I opened it up and held it up to him.

"Tim… hey… here you need to drink this." He shook his head and pushed it away roughly, causing me to drop it. I quickly picked it up.

"What are you doing here Ana?" he growled, his voice rough and raw from coughing. I frowned.

"I don't know. But I'm getting the hell out of here, and so are you." I held out the bottle again, which he didn't push away this time. He kept his eyes on me as I held the bottle to his lips. He accepted it and drank deeply, draining it. He coughed a few more times, then sighed, his expression softening. He looked up at me as I stood and held out my hand.

"You shouldn't be here." He said, as if he just realize I was actually here.

"Yeah, you don't either so get your ass up and let's get the hell outta here." I huffed impatiently. I was nervous. I didn't want to run into that hooded guy or even worse, this "S.M" character again. I won't be able to hide Tim if he starts to cough again. And I'm not going to leave him behind. He looked at me hesitantly and then took my hand. I pulled him up and smiled.

"I ain't leaving you behind, okay? I got your back." I smiled reassuringly. He returned it weakly, but I saw the resolve in his eyes. We are leaving this place. I held onto his hand tightly as we made our way out into the hallway.

I noticed immediately that the hallway lamps were lit. I frowned and felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. They definitely weren't lit before. I looked around quickly and found the hallway empty. I took a deep breath and walked down slowly with Tim.

"What's wrong Ana?" he asked as he looked around the hallway.

"The lamps… they weren't lit before …" I bit my lip nervously.

Tim looked at me with a grimace and started to cough again. I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. We have to get out of here now. Tim is sick and if it came down to having to run, he wouldn't make it. We have to make it out of here!

I pulled Tim along with me down the hall, fear and nervousness heightened my senses. I listened for any foreign sounds and took shallow breaths. It didn't help my nerves that Tim was still coughing. It seems like it was getting progressively worse.

"Tim," I said in a hushed voice. "You have to stop coughing. We're going to get caught!"

He stopped me and fell to his knees. I knelt next to him. "I…. can't…." He struggled to say between coughs. I patted his back as began to struggle breathing. I started to panic as his face started turning blue.

"No! Oh no, no, no! Tim! Tim please…" I tried to lift him up, but he keeled over onto his side, wheezing.

I sobbed, "Tim, please, you have to get up. Please-"

"Run…" he wheezed. I paused.

"What? No I won't leave you!"

"Get… Away… Ana…" he began shaking, his body had gone rigid as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he started foaming at the mouth. Oh god, he was having a seizure! I opened up his jacket and ripped the collar of his shirt to keep it from inadvertently strangling him as I tried to pry open his mouth. He was biting his tongue, making it bleed. I managed to pry his teeth apart and quickly stuck my two fingers in his mouth, wincing as his teeth dug into my knuckles as I held his tongue down to keep him from swallowing it. I moved him carefully and tried to stretch out his cringing form.

After what felt like an eternity I felt his body begin to relax and his rapid, struggled breathing become even. His jaw relaxed and I managed to pull my now bloodied fingers out of his mouth. I pulled him into my arms and cradled him carefully, trying to coax him back into consciousness.

"Tim… Tim… please wake up." I said softly, caressing his cold, clammy face and brushing his sweat drenched hair from his eyes. His eyelids fluttered but didn't open as he began to sob. I held him as he did, trying to comfort him. I rocked him back and forth gently as he sobbed in the crook of my neck. I began humming softly as I ran my fingers through his hair, like my mother used to do whenever I was upset. I shushed him gently, hoping to calm him quickly.

"Shhh… it's okay, it's okay… I know it's bad, but Tim, we need to get out of here." I murmured. He stopped sobbing as I gently caressed his cheek. I smiled softly and reassuringly as I stood up. I pulled him up to his feet and held his hand.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." I said. I pulled on his arm gently but he did not yield. I looked back at him.

"Tim? C'mon, we have to get out of here. Let's go." I pulled on his arm again, but he did not budge. Suddenly he pulled me close, crushing me to his chest. I looked up at him, confused.

"What are you…d-doing?" I stammered as he started to caress my cheek softly, his arm around my waist tightly. I swallowed as I felt my face heat up, embarrassed by our closeness.

"Soft and sweet…" he murmured huskily, his voice rough. My face burned even more.

"That's sweet and all, but we gotta get go-!" I paused as he grabbed my jaw and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I stood stunned as his cold, slightly chapped lips moved against mine. I struggled a little but managed to push him away as felt his tongue try to enter my mouth. I shoved him, an incredulous look on my face.

"What the hell, man?!" I rubbed my lips. He smirked, then let out a low chuckle, causing a shiver to go down my spine. I shook my head.

"Tim, this is no time to fuck around! We have to leave, now!" I turned away and started to walk down the hall. All of a sudden, I crashed face first into the ground, a heavy wright on my back. I was forced to turn and looked up at Tim, who wrapped his hand tightly around my throat. I clawed at his hand and looked up at him. I gasped at his malicious smile and icy blue eyes. This wasn't Tim.


	12. Saved

I coughed and clawed at Tim's hand as his grip continued to tighten. He pressed his weight against my larynx and I struggled to breathe. I couldn't move as I struggled to push him off. I felt tears fall from my eyes as I gave Tim a pleading look.

"Ti….m…. Ple….ase…" I choked out desperately. He tightened his grip even more.

"Don't…" He growled softly, dangerously. I continued to claw his hand, drawing blood with my nails.

"Ti-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he shouted, tightening his grip even more. I choked out a scream as he raised his fist, ready to strike me. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the blow, but it never came. I waited, but nothing happened. Even the grip on my neck was starting to loosen. I opened my eyes and saw the pained, restraining look on Tim's face; his face turning red with effort as he shakily loosened his grip on my neck. I looked at his eyes, one was blue, but the other was light brown.

"Tim…?" I rasped, unsure of what to do.

"…An…a ….Run…!" he breathed out, strained and pleading, as if he was struggling to even speak.

I nodded and gave him an apologetic look as I swiftly and simultaneously lifted a swift knee to his groin and shoved him off of me. I shot up in that instant and started to run, ignoring the difficulty I had taking in breaths, ignoring the roar of pain and anger that sounded behind me, ignoring the cramping, burning pain in my legs that threatened to cripple me once more. I just fucking ran.

I didn't spare a look back as I reached the staircase. Not trusting my legs, which were feeling the mounting pain of my injury with each passing second, I slid down the wide banister, thankful that it was polished smooth. As I jumped off the banister, my legs gave way and I tumbled down the second flight of stairs. I instinctively covered my face as I rolled down the stairs, my back hitting something incredibly hard. I coughed, all the air knocked out of me. I felt so dizzy and light headed, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I felt hands patting my back roughly and lifting me to my feet. I stood, but the pain was too much, and I collapsed. I groaned in pain, my legs spasming violently. The last few days had finally taken their toll on my legs.

"Fuck…" I groaned. I was in so much pain, that I barely felt myself being lifted into someone's arms. I felt so dizzy, it took every ounce of concentration I had to not faint, barely registering the static that was sounding around me in an angry hum.

I felt myself being lightly jostled, re-positioned to rest on someone's back piggyback style. I held on tightly, unable to really move my legs, as the figure in question began to bolt. I kept my eyes shut, focusing on the sounds around me through the static. I heard two sets of footsteps behind us, chasing us in an urgent manner. The static was growing louder when I suddenly heard the slam of a door and felt the cool evening air hit my sweat sheened face. I smelled the dirt and dewy scent of grass as the figure who carried me kept running.

After a while, the footsteps behind us started to fade, as well as the static. That's when I noticed that the sounds around us changed. My savior's footsteps sounded hollow and echoed, as if we were inside a concrete cave. I squinted my eyes open; I saw a rounded, concave cement wall. Opening my eyes a little more, I realized we were inside what I assume to be a large tunnel. It was eerily dark and silent. And I mean dead silent, as if we were in a soundproof room. Only my savior's footsteps could be heard. No wind or birds. Nothing. Even our breathing seemed to disappear. It was almost like the space within the tunnel were eating the ambient sounds. I lifted my head slightly to look at my rescuer. He wore a dingy grayish blue hoodie and a brown jacket with striped sleeves over it. I couldn't see very much else besides the back of his head. He was thin, that much I know, and pretty strong to be this tall, string bean of a guy and be able to lift me so easily. But then again I wasn't really heavy. He slowed his pace to a walk, his head suddenly jerking to the side and soft clicking sounds coming from his throat. I flinched at the sudden movement and he stopped. I felt his fingers methodically twitch under my thighs, jerky and almost strained, as if he didn't have any control over it. After a few minutes, his body relaxed and he started to walk again.

"Sorry…" he murmured softly, the space absorbing the words quickly. I said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally exited the tunnel. It was like a complete aura shift, and I sighed in relief. My legs, though throbbing painfully, were no longer spasming. I didn't trust myself to walk yet, and it didn't seem like this guy was going to let go of me just yet. We walked on in silence, his head pricking up every so often to listen out for any foreign sounds. We would top every once in a while, due to his spasms and tics; the clicking and twitching that made his body tense, as if he were concentrating on not dropping me. I figured, after the fourth time this happened, that he has Tourette's syndrome or something. I vaguely remembered knowing someone when I was a kid that had Tourette's. He was a good friend of mine and a playmate, despite being two grades above me at the time. We kept in contact through phone calls and letters after his family moved from the city to the suburbs when we were in middle school. But after some time, we fell out of touch. The last I heard of him, him and his sister were in a horrid car crash, and his sister died from her injuries. I cried horribly for them, having flashbacks from when mom and I had our car accident, which only happened a few months before he moved away. I tried to email and write to him, tried to reach out to him in the only way I knew how, but I never got a reply. I still hope to this day that he is doing okay.

My savior's pace began to slow as we made our way to a collection of boulders that seemed too perfectly set. He crouched carefully, setting me down to sit on the lowest stone. I loosened my grip on him and sighed, looking at him warily. He walked around the perimeter of our location, listening tensely for any followers or intruders. When he deemed that there were no interlopers in our vicinity, he relaxed fully. He turned to face me, and I was immediately on high alert; his skin was extremely pale, his face half hidden in a vertically blue and white striped bandana and his eyes covered with golden mirror lens goggles. His shaggy brown hair peeked out from under his hood. I swallowed when I realized that he had two steel hatchets holstered on his waist. He had one hand completely bandaged and another hand covered in a black worn leather glove. He stepped close to me, and I scooted back, only to be halted by the pain in my crippled legs.

He suddenly held his hands up. "Hey, r-r-relax! I'm not guh-going to hurt you. I couldn't even if I-I wanted to." His voice was calm and gentle, almost friendly and familiar. I swallowed, still tense. He kept his hands up and walked around me clockwise. I kept my eyes on him, keeping tense and wary. He leaned down slowly behind the boulder, one hand still raised and the other reaching slowly down for something. I opened my mouth, prepared to scream when he lifted his hand and brought up my guitar case. A gasp caught in my throat and joy flooded through me.

"I just th-thought you may wanted to take this w-with you home." He said with a stutter. I was stunned.

"I… I can go home?" I breathed as I took my hard case from the guy's hands, and not a moment too soon as his hand began to twitch again.

He nodded at me and his cheeks rose, as if he were smiling. "Yeah, you c-can go home. I'm n-n-not like Hoodie, whose com-completely under control, or like Mah-Masky, who fights it. I accept what I a-am, and can somehow find a mi-mi-middle ground." He twitched again, his head jerking off to the side again. I winced as a sudden crack sounded from his head snapping. He winced too and murmured an "ouch".

"Have you always had those ticks?" I asked softly. He stood silent for a moment, his brow furrowed. I couldn't tell if what I said annoyed him or if he was just in thought.

"Have I? I wonder..." he said softly. He then shook his head and sat next to me on the boulder. He didn't sit close, which was good considering I didn't really trust this guy. We sat in silence, the sky's hues, instead of growing darker, were growing lighter. Shit, was it morning?!

"Well fuck…" I sighed. The guy looked at me and tilted his head inquisitively.

"My brothers. I live with them; they're kind of my legal guardians. They're probably freaking out that I didn't come home yesterday. Shit on a brick" I rubbed my face with agita. The guy chuckled.

"'Shit on a brick' huh? I used to kn-know someone who said that a lot…" he leaned back on his arms and pushed his goggles up revealing grayish-green eyes. I frowned softly. His eyes were so familiar. And now that I think about it, so were his mannerisms. I shook my head. There was no way…

"Hey, W-what is your name?" he asked me. I started, jolted out of my thoughts by his sudden question.

"…Ana." I said, slightly unhinged by the suddenness of his question. His brows furrowed.

"' Ana'? like in 'Anarchy?" I nodded and his eyes lit up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two cards. He handed them to me.

"I think these are yours. It's fuh-funny… I knew someone a long time ago that had a name like yours… bu-but I d-d-don't think you're that person… the last time I saw her, sh-she was in a wheelchair." He said softly and almost sadly. My eyes widened as a sudden realization flooded me. It couldn't be… there's no way in hell that it could be…!

He sat up at the sudden look on my face, his eyes full of concern and alertness. "Ana? What's wrong?" he came closer, and I instinctively scooted away, falling to the ground. He was on his feet in an instant and he crouched over me, holding me upright and his eyes full of worry.

"Ana?" he said his face close to mine, examining me. I lifted my hand shakily and gently pulled down his bandana. He flinched, but didn't stop me. I looked at his bare face and felt the tears instantly well in my eyes. Oh my god. It _was_ him.

"…T-Toby? Ticci Toby?"


End file.
